


Perfect

by RideBoldlyRide



Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), F/M, I'm still hesitant about that, Slow Burn, Zutara, later there will be some haru/jin, maybe some hints at taang?, the painted lady/the blue spirit
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-12
Updated: 2021-02-07
Packaged: 2021-03-04 01:27:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 13
Words: 38,763
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24675319
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RideBoldlyRide/pseuds/RideBoldlyRide
Summary: Things have been eating at her for a while, but on the eve of her wedding to Aang, Katara has a realization about her life and where she needs to be. With the right nudges, by the right people, Katara sets off to find her own purpose, which, of course sets her into trouble's way. But she's not alone, and she begins to wonder if half the fun is who you get into trouble with.***"Then what am I supposed to do?""That I can't answer. You have to figure out what you're willing to give up.""Give up?"He nodded decisively."Give up. If there's anything I learned from my time with Mai, it's that to be in a relationship, you will have to give something up. Or you will have to give them up."He turned back to her, and she met his eyes steadily, even if scared."So, Katara. What are you willing to give up?"
Relationships: Katara/Zuko (Avatar), Sokka/Suki (Avatar)
Comments: 137
Kudos: 363





	1. On the Precipice

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first foray into ATLA writing, so please be kind-- but also please give feedback! I am still trying to figure out voices, so I could definitely use any constructive criticism on anything, but specifically character voices. <3

Her nutmeg toe traced tiny circles in the clouds as her leg dangled off the edge of the dock over nothing. Without thought, she reached out with her will, pulling some of the moisture from the cloud below her. With an absentminded twirl of a finger, a small coil of water wrapped itself up said finger, as if a small water drake. Turning a tired blue eye towards it, she fancied it a small fairy dragon, and shaped it as such. A melancholy smile tugged at one of the corners of her lips. Another determinate thought, and it spewed water like fire. 

Fire. 

Dragon.

She heaved a heavy sigh, and the water fell apart. One knee still tucked up under her chin, she wrapped her arms around it, leaving the other leg to continue it's ponderous circuits. 

_ Why is it that no matter how hard I try not to think about him _ , her thoughts bitter,  _ even the simplest things remind me? _

He had arrived in all understated dignity that evening, to the Northern Air Temple. Abstractly, she knew there was a chance he would come, for they had invited him. Why wouldn't he? He was their close friend. But she had begged the spirits that he would just be… what? Too busy? Too apathetic? Too caught up in his own romance? She wasn't quite sure, but when he had arrived two days before the ceremony, all of her thoughts became twisted. No, it wasn't that they became convoluted at that moment. Rather, it was just that the twisted confusion surfaced, instead of being shoved under layers of smiles and dismissive chuckles.

It would have been so much easier if he had just come all in glory and pomp, befitting his station. Instead, he had arrived by himself, clad in clothes so very similar to the ones she had the most memories of him in. Better quality, of finer materials, but none of the glory that a Fi--

"What are you doing out here?"

His voice made her jump practically out of her skin. The words had been said gently, curiously, but their source was enough to cause her to jump. Somewhere near the back of her mind, she wondered if she had conjured his arrival by pure thought. Dismissing the thought as preposterous, she swallowed slowly, trying to find her voice again. 

"Just…" she turned to look at him, raising a helpless shrug, "trying to collect my thoughts?"

A single black brow arched over an amber eye.

"Is that a question or a statement?"

She dropped her chin back on to her knee, so abruptly it made her jaw clack. When she answered, her voice was laced with defeat. 

"I don't know."

A rustle of fabric, and she knew he was coming to sit beside her. Watching her peripheral, she watched him lean back, using a hand to support himself, casting one leg also into the void, the other tucked up on to the solid ground. 

If you could call any ground in an air temple solid.

She scoffed at the correlation between the temple and its current caretaker. 

The same brow rose again, and this time he turned towards her.

"What's so funny?"

"Oh," her words were acerbic, " _ so _ much."

Brow snapped tight, and he sat up. 

"Wha--"

She cut him off with a dismissive wave, like she had to so many. A long pause passed between the two, and for that time, they both sat in something akin to comfortable silence. Somewhat uncharacteristically, he was the one to finally break it. 

"How are you?"

The young woman in blue threw a smile his way that, to most observers, would have radiated joy and elation. He noticed it didn't reach her eyes.

"Wonderful! Great!" The smile started to slip under his piercing gaze, and her words lost their vigor. Her final word came out as more of a mockery of its meaning than an honest descriptor. 

"Perfect."

"Ah."

Face falling, she heaved another sigh, and she turned back to the misty abyss. Her fingers played with the droplets, as if small bugs she could lead with a light. Like a troupe of moths to a proverbial flame. She knew how they would have felt. The only real question left was which one was the moon that would lead her way, and which one was the flame she'd sacrifice herself on?

She broke through her bitter musings, and turned to him. 

"And you? Life back at the palace? With your old friend."

This time, it was his piercing gaze that broke from her, and she abstractly watched his motions. The word escaped him as a monotone.

"Perfect."

He didn't seem to want to say anything more, so she let the silence fall once more. Finally, as if the words formulated from thin air, his words reached her ears, defeated in tone. 

"She left."

Lifting her head up at his words, her brows snapped together, as she turned her stormy blue eyes towards him. 

"Mai left? But you guys have been together for…"

"5 years." His eyes continued to gaze out into the mist. "That's the problem. 5 years, and I couldn't seem to  _ do _ anything else about it."

Running his hand through his dark hair, she noticed that instead of it being pulled up into the traditional topknot of his station, he wore it loose. So many years had passed, and she found herself caught up in the motion of his attempt to tame. His hair hung longer, but still in an unruly mess. Breaking her eyes and thoughts away, she followed his gaze into the dark. 

"I'm sorry, Zuko."

He shrugged bonelessly.

"It's ok. Being honest? It's actually a small bit of relief."

"What do you mean?"

"If I can't bring myself to marry her after this many years… well, what does that say about me?" Shaking his head, he heaved a small sigh. "What does that say about how I viewed her? No. No, it's better that she moved on. Find somebody who'll be right for her."

She turned to rest her cheek on her bent knee, finally turning to face him. His mouth was downcast, amber eyes searching the mists for an answer. 

"I know you loved her. It must hurt to lose her again. I'm so sorry."

"Don't-- I mean, I did-- I do love her, but…" Suddenly frazzled, the young man ran his hands one more through his mane, harkening back so many years. "I just don't know if I loved her like _that_. It's just-- it's for the better."

Blue eyes watched him suck in a deep breath before releasing it in a sigh. She would have sworn a puff of smoke escaped on the exhale, had it been five years prior. But he was Fire Lord now, and that would be childish behavior -- except the fact that she was fairly certain he had. Choosing not to comment on it, she allowed a small smirk to pull at her lips. But before she was able to say anything snarky, she was interrupted. 

"But that's enough about my life. Not really here to talk about my romantic life." 

"Then why are you here?" The words slipped out of her mouth, but her eyes grew wide at their content, despite her soft tone. "I- I didn't mean it that way! I just meant out here, why are you out he--"

A smirk pulled at his lips, and he turned a side eye towards her.

"It's okay, Katara. I knew what you meant."

She huffed before continuing. 

"Guess five years can affect how well we communicate, huh?"

He tilted his head to the side, still smirking. 

"Nah, I'm pretty sure this is how we communicated back then, too."

A gentle shove on his shoulder brought his smirk to a smile.

"Careful- you might push me off up here. Wouldn't want to start a national incident between the Fire Nation and the Southern Water Tribe." 

He followed his ribbing with a wink, and while she rolled her eyes, a smile danced across her features. 

"You're insufferable."

A soft chuckle escaped him, but died in the night. Turning to face her straight, his face fell into a more somber expression. 

"I saw you out here after my evening meditations. You had the body language of someone considering how long you would fall."

She couldn't help the small snort that escaped her. 

"It's not that bad."

"It's not that good, either."

She turned to face him, curious, and was surprised to find an intense look about him. He really was concerned. 

"Is it just pre-wedding nerves?" He tried to press, but when she turned away, his heart sank. "Or is it something else?"

A long pause passed between them, and Katara found she wilted under his concerned gaze. Unable to meet his eye, she looked back out into the mists. 

"Can't see anything here…" 

Her words confused him, understanding there was meaning behind her words. 

"What do you mean?"

She sighed and gestured into the soupy mist. 

"I can't see down to my sea." She gestured to the clouds that daily socked in the sky at night. "My moon is a hazy glow."

She shook her head with the same air as a disappointed mother. 

"Is that a bad omen?"

"So it is nerves?"

Sighing again, she shook her head. 

"No, Zuko, it's… it's a lot more than that."

Hesitatingly, in the pause, he reached for her hand, like she had offered to him over the years. To offer the little bit of physical reminder of the support they might need in that moment. 

"If you don't want to talk about it, then we can talk about something else."

Even before he had completed his statement, she was shaking her head. 

"No, no I think I'd like to talk about it."

"Then I'll listen."

But she found that the feelings that hovered behind her eyes daily, or rather, nightly, were as fluid as the water she bent. However, Katara was not a Master for no reason. With a deep sigh, she reined in her thoughts, and molded them into words and thoughts from concepts and feelings. Breathing deeply, she finally had her words before her, and she spoke.

"Zuko, do you remember what that stupid play all those years ago called me?"

"I- I don't really remember. There were so many things wrong in that play."

"The Avatar's Girl."

A spark of recognition lit in his eyes. 

"Ah, yeah."

"That… that stuck with me. I'm a powerful water bender- I have training and knowledge very few have and even more experience than those double my age. And yet, at my base, I'm relegated to being 'the Avatar's Girl'.

"I've tried to not let it get to me, but then Aang will come and go-- off to some new mission, or to just…" she shrugged helplessly, "try something new.

"Do you know how many places I've visited besides the South Pole, since I moved in here with him a year and a half ago?"

Zuko shook his head, the humidity from the air condensing in his hair, spraying a small mist around him. 

"One."

He felt his heart sink. This- this wasn't good.

"I'm assuming it's not by choice?"

"How am I supposed to have a choice, when he is gone by the time I wake up, with a note simply saying he's gone? Do you know how long it took me to get him to  _ actually leave a note _ ? It's not intentional," she sighed, "but it devolves me into a side role- a trophy wife."

With a flourish at the end of her tirade, she sagged. Zuko took a moment to consider, watching the mist roll slowly by, before responding. It was the least he could do. 

"That's- I'd say it was rough, but it's more than that. It's unfortunate." He looked down to where their hands met, and he gently squeezed her hand. "He's missing out on the best parts of you."

Ever so gentle, and Katara wasn't sure he even recognized he was doing it, he began to run his thumb across the back of her hand. 

"What do you mean?" Her voice was soft, gentle.

He struggled for a moment to put something he felt so viscerally into words. 

"You never back down from a fight, if it means doing the right thing. But if, by you taking a hit, you can help others, you will. Does that… does that make sense?"

"I guess, yeah."

He shook his head, frustrated with his own thoughts. "My point is that you always want to help others. No matter the cost. By keeping you here, you can't help anyone but Aang. It's selfish on his part."

"It's not intentional."

"I never said it was."

"Then what am I supposed to do?"

"That I can't answer. You have to figure out what you're willing to give up." 

"Give up?"

He nodded decisively.

"Give up. If there's anything I learned from my time with Mai, it's that to be in a relationship, you will have to give something up. Or you will have to give them up."

He turned back to her, and she met his eyes steadily, even if scared. 

"So, Katara. What are you willing to give up?"


	2. Conversations

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you guys for all the sweet comments!! Thank you for being so supportive in this new foray of mine!! <3

The sun had just started to warm the sky when angry, muffled words began to fill the Northern Air Temple's mostly empty streets and echoed off of long abandoned buildings. Occasionally a word or two was recognizable, and the relatively small collection of people that were the temporary inhabitants of the temple began to emerge, hesitatingly looking for the voice’s source. 

While most had slept, Zuko had laid awake, his thoughts replaying the discussion of the night prior on the edge of the mountain. So when the words began to fly, he was already awake and fairly certain of their source. By the time that he had emerged, a small group of the friends and family visiting for the wedding were gathering in front of Aang's choice of housing. 

"...cause  _ he _ said something, isn't it? I always knew--" 

Aang's voice. It was harsh, hurt. He wasn't often one to resort to anger, but there were a few worldly things that he would fight bitterly for. Zuko had a feeling this was going to be one of them. A small twinge of pain stabbed him, as he worried that the 'he' Aang was speaking about, was him. 

Katara's voice was hardly a whisper, barely heard.

"No, Aang, this has nothing to do with him. This is me. This has been bothering me for a--"

"Then why haven't you said something?!"

His accusatory tone brought a grimace to Zuko's face. And evidently, it had brought fire into Katara's belly. 

"I  _ have _ ! You just  _ don't listen _ ! It's not what you want to hear, so you shut me down!"

She heaved an audible sigh. Zuko felt a stab of guilt, feeling like he was intruding, and started to move away, leaving the closer family to be there for them both, but the door swung open wide. Out stormed the world's greatest hero, in a huff. Directly behind, followed Katara. 

"Aang, please stop and listen to me."

"What is there left to say?" He rounded on her, frustration in his gray eyes. "You want the wedding called off? It's off!" 

"Aang…"

He shook his head, grabbing his glider. 

"I need to go." 

His words stopped Katara in her tracks. Something solidified in her eyes, and she set her jaw. 

"I won't be here when you get back, Aang."

Frozen in motion, his head swiveled to her, face in shock. 

"What?"

"We've tried this, Aang. For 5 years, we've tried this. And you know what has happened? Exactly what I never wanted. I say something you don't like, you run off to spirits know where, and by the time you're back It's  _ magically _ all better. I can't keep doing this. It's time for me to be who I need to be. To use and be used up trying to help others."

"But," he finally moved again, this time towards her. "But I love you."

"No, Aang, you love the thought of me." Her eyes were soft, but she was firm. She stepped forward and enveloped him in a hug.

"I'm sorry. I really am, Aang. It's just time for me to be truthful to who I am. I don't think I can ever silence that little voice in my head telling me to do and be more. And if you truly love  _ me _ , and not your ideal of me, you won't ask me to."

Slowly, Aang wrapped his arms around her, clinging to her like she might disappear out of his arms. Zuko knew the feeling. Mai's departure, while not as public, had been much more dramatic. When Aang finally broke away, he kept his head down, but his friend was able to spot the telltale tear streaks on his face. In a quick shuffle, the Avatar opened his glider, and was gone. 

Eyes downcast, Katara spoke with heavy clarity.

"I'm sorry, but the wedding is cancelled."

Without waiting, she turned and reentered the place she had called home for the past 18 months. 

* * *

Anger spurred her actions. In a flurry of movement, and with a keen eye, the young woman gathered up one of her seal skin bags, and moved about the room, plucking only the items she needed from the home she had shared with Aang. The frustration of five years culminated in her actions, leaving no room for any other emotion. 

_ Let me guess, you talked with Zuko _ , he had spat at her. Jealousy laced all of his words.

_ Of course I did. He's my friend as much as he is yours _ . She had tried to keep her temper in check, while also fighting back the desire to continue the statement with something more caustic. 

Tears sprang to her eyes, as she finally began to allow the events of a few moments prior to sink in. Sinking to the bed, worn, she let the tears fall in silence. Over the years, she had sobbed over an empty bed, alone again in a strange place. And as the years had progressed, over the stranger that did occasionally share it with her. 

She was tired. Oh, so tired. 

A door creaked open, but she didn't turn. There was no doubt that it was not the Avatar. It could be only one of two, but she had a gut feeling of who it was. 

"So, that was a long time coming."

Casting her eyes over her shoulder, she spotted her brother perched up against the door frame, looking nonchalant. 

"Was it?" Katara barely recognized her own voice.

"Oh definitely. I was actually surprised when the letter came in. Thought it was going to be telling us you two broke up and you were off on some crusade somewhere. Not that you were going to marry him."

Shame beat at her cheeks.

"Did I do the right thing?"

Shooting off of the frame, his expression shifted. 

"Hell yes, you did." Brows furrowed, he rounded the bed, to kneel in front of her. "Listen, Katara. When I heard you were going to marry Aang, I was scared for you."

"Scared?"

Sokka nodded enthusiastically. "Very. I was scared that you would fade away. Fade into the background. Become his shadow. And I had every reason to be: you were already doing that."

"Why didn't you tell me?"

A wry smile tried to pull at his lips, but failed. 

"I tried to. But you were so caught up, so stubbornly determined to make it work," his hands rested on hers, "that anything I was going to say would just bounce off."

With a free hand, he cupped her cheek, and a mischievous glint sparkled, even as his eyes remained sad. 

"Besides- when have I ever been able to convince you that you were wrong about anything?"

Despite the tears, a bark of a laugh escaped her. 

"You'd have to be right at least once, first."

His smile grew in response. "I'll count this as my first time."

She shrugged, and the heaviness of the events of the day seemed to lighten ever so gently from her shoulders, and the tears began to dry.

"Thank you, Sokka."

Wrapping her up in a hug, he held her firmly, and she returned it evenly. Both breaking away, she watched as his face lit up, throwing around one of his signature smiles. He grabbed her hastily packed bag, and handed it to her.

"Now that means Suki and I will be able to tell your nephew all your new adventures."

Suki was closing in on the baby's arrival, and despite her hesitance to confirm a gender, Sokka had proclaimed to the world that it  _ had _ to be a boy. And Katara knew it was a sore spot.

"I'll be more than happy to regale my  _ niece _ with all my adventures."

He opened his mouth to argue, but she continued on a more serious note.

"How did you know I was going to venture out on my own instead of coming home?"

A cheeky grin replaced his look of outrage. 

"You're my sister. I know you couldn't stay penned up in the South after having seen so much of the world."

As he stood again, he laid a soft peck at her hair line, leaving her with a soft smile on her face. 

"You know me so well."

"It's my job." He ghosted a hand on her shoulder as he moved to the door, but he stopped just shy of leaving. 

"Katara?" He glanced over his shoulder. 

"Hm?"

"Was it Zuko?"

She raised a brow at him. "What do you mean?"

"Was he the one who helped you make this choice?"

She paused. Aang's words hovered in the back of her mind, the jealousy in his eyes.

"He helped me get my bearings again." She shook her head, trying to clear the memory away. "He's always been a great… friend."

Sokka's open face never was able to hide his feelings, and a worried expression passed over it.

"I owe him, then."

She offered a small smile in return. "Me too."

Silence fell over them, before he spoke again. 

"Listen, it's not my place, but--"

A snap happened behind her eyes, and she bit out a response, her emotions raw on the subject. 

"Then don't." Her tone sharp, she immediately regretted her response, and sighed. "I'm sorry, Sokka. What is it?"

"... Just, for what it's worth, don't cut him out of your landscape, ya know? You're right- he's been a great friend over the years. But, well, look at Suki and me. I think I can say that we're friends and  _ friends _ , if you know what I mean."

"You're married to her. I think I know what you mean."

"Exactly." He looked smug, until he caught his sister's confused expression. Sighing, he continued.

"Look, I'm saying, just because you and Aang didn't work out, doesn't mean someone else won't either."

A smile on her face, she got up, and met him at the doorway.

"Thank you, Sokka." She placed a quick peck on his cheek. "You idiot."

* * *

He really was an idiot, she thought as she picked her way through her family and close friends, saying her farewells. She promised Suki to return for the baby's delivery, to which Katara made a quick prediction of three months. 

Her brother was well meaning, she knew, but a nagging sensation chewed at the back of her brain. There was no way that Zuko could ever reciprocate the feelings that she had been fighting about him over the years. So many opportunities to try it out, to test the waters, but he had made no inclination. To say that she didn't, on the more empty nights, indulge herself of thinking about their times together, would be a lie. She never thought longer- there was never a consideration of what could have been, only reminiscing of past fellowship. 

Sokka was well meaning, but so very wrong about Zuko. She was certain. 

However, she took solace that maybe, one day in the future, she'd find someone like him. Someone who'd respect her and her own autonomy, and love the freedom she expressed. 

But when she made her way through the small crowd, she excused herself, looking for him. Despite all her claims, her thoughts, she recognized that there was one thing she wanted to do before she left. It might change dynamics, but she had already shifted one that day. What was one more?

She scanned the crowd, but he was nowhere to be found. Sokka, at her side, leaned in conspiratorially. 

"He's at the air dock."

Turning a thankful smile to her brother, she moved her way through the crowd towards the docks. 

She found him where Sokka had said. He was loading his pack onto the airship. 

"You're leaving that quickly?" 

Her words made Zuko jump, and golden eyes turned to her. 

"No reason to stick around. Figure you're probably heading out as soon as possible."

She shrugged her sack on her shoulder to show that he had been correct. He nodded, and she was satisfied to see a small smile at the edge of his lips. 

"I'm happy for you, Katara."

"You're the first person to say that. Sokka and my dad are just glad that I didn't go through with it. Toph is coming with me for a little bit, so I'm sure I'll hear about it all the way. Everyone else is…" she shrugged, "they're just still in shock."

"But you're not."

She shook her head vigorously. 

"For the first time in a long time, I feel clear-headed."

He nodded, and turned to go back to his packing. 

"Good."

"Thank you."

A brow rose. "For what?"

She dropped her pack off her shoulder and moved towards him. 

"For helping me cut through the spiderwebs."

She stopped right before him, even as he nodded gently. 

"I'm glad it helped."

Tentatively, she reached for his hand. Hesitation held her back for a moment, but then she shook her head, trying to get her thoughts about the young firebender in front of her, straight.

_ Tui and La _ , she thinks,  _ forget Sokka, I'm the idiot.  _

With a determined action, she placed a lingering kiss on his cheek. 

Without looking back, she turned away, off of his airship, and snags her satchel in one swift motion. She only stops when his voice rings across the dock. 

"How long are you going to be gone?"

Blue eyes dancing, she turned back to him. A contented smile fell across her lips. 

"I don't know." She sounds the happiest he'd heard her in a long time. Throwing a wink, she turned back to the beginning of her new life. "Just don't forget me, Zuko."

Forget her? He shook his head wryly, a smile on his lips, as she walked away. How could he ever forget her?


	3. Yomi

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is *just* Katara and Toph. I know, I know, but.... Zuko.... Zutara....  
> Believe me, I *know*. But I promise to make it up to you next chapter. This one... This one just needed to be Katara stretching her wings again.  
> And the delay won't be as long for next chapter since I already have large chunks of it already written. In fact... Take a look at the end notes for a preview (just so you don't hate me for no Zuko)
> 
> I can't thank you all for the kind comments, kudos and bookmarks!! I'm so blown away!

Together for the past month, the pair walked amicably down a trail between Gao Ling and Chin Village. The weather had started to turn a few days prior, the wind now dry and crisp, except when they neared the coast. While the chill had been in the air, it now also bore along dark heavy clouds. Dead, dry leaves crunched under foot, now sodden with rain. They had long stopped the pretense of image, allowing the shattered and decaying wet leaves to cling to their feet and hem.

If the wet leaves were disconcerting to Toph, she didn't let it show, as she let loose a peal of raucous laughter. 

"Oh that's golden! Thanks, Sweetness- I'll be saving that tidbit for the future." 

Her eyes glinted mischievously. Katara smiled in return. At the start, she was concerned about how well they would travel together. It was no hidden thing that the two often butted heads. But this trip, finally free of her need to fret or worry, had been the most enjoyable. And Toph had just as steadily grown close to her, no longer swatting her hands away when she did indulge in some light-hearted mothering. In fact, at night, she'd allow Katara to comb and plait her hair. 

Comfortably, the two had fallen into a rhythm. Katara knew this was going to be temporary- Toph was traveling by foot to Kyoshi Island, to come with them to the South Pole after Suki had the baby. Katara would travel from Kyoshi Island ahead of her to help with the delivery. 

They had made superb time until the last week. That's when the rains had begun. Where they had been able to hitch a ride for the majority of their trip when the water began to fall, the rides dried up. 

The chilled moisture hung in the air, dripping from the trees, down tunics and saturating hair. They were somewhere between Gao Ling and Chin villages, nearing a small speck on a map. Katara had sworn the map had read "Yomi" but she wasn't certain. But as they crested the hill overlooking the valley the village sat in, she couldn't help but wonder if the name was, in fact, accurate.

A spattering of houses rested along the route, and branching out. Their condition hinted at neglect and abandonment, as homes and storefronts lay rotting in the sun. Bleached and worn, roof tiles of wood stuck out like shattered teeth of an old jawbone. If it weren't for the slow shuffle of people, moving lacklusterly, she was certain she would have assumed the village to be abandoned. 

"Wow." Beside her, the young earthbender stared, unseeing, out over the valley. Katara wondered what she was visualizing. "This place is…"

Katara nodded. 

"Rough." She finished for her friend. 

"Yeah. What was this town called, again?"

"Yomi."

The waterbender moved on towards the village, missing Toph's shudder. 

As they entered the village, she watched as dull eyes followed them, and scraggly palms turned up to her. With a furrowed brow, she shook her hand. The provisions were scarce, and the money they did have was barely going to last them the remainder of the trip. 

Reaching town center, she shook her head, calling out. 

"Is there someone here I can speak with?"

A thin woman emerged from a dark overhand. 

"Come. I'll answer what I can."

* * *

The room is mottled with shadow and light. They sit upon dusty cushions, rotting and worn, cradling a simple herbal tea in their hands. Across from them, the skeletal woman sat silently still, save for the single finger tracing patterns into that dust on the table. 

"Why are you here?" Her voice is feeble, weak. 

"We're merely passing through. We were hoping to lodge here tonight." Her words solid, the waterbender kept the air certain, even as her own thoughts recoiled in fear at their location. Something haunted this village, she was certain, but she wondered at it's origin.

"Do not linger."

"Why?" The words are out of her lips, unwarranted. Toph gently kicks her under the table, but she shifts slightly, and continues to query the woman. "What's going on here?"

"This is Yomi. The land of the dead. Those living do not stay for long. Onna makes certain of that."

"This can't be what the village has always been like?"

"No." The dull green eyes of the woman across from her grew distant. "No, once this was a thriving town. It was full of youth and knowledge. Tradesmen, masters in their crafts; children and families, filling the streets; scholars, anxious to explore beyond the close watch of the Earth Kingdom or the Fire Nation-- these filled this small village. Then Onna came."

"Who's Onna?" Katara was surprised to hear Toph break into the conversation.

"She's a vindictive spirit." The narrator's eyes snapped back to the present. "This was her garden, her treasure trove. We had accidentally stolen her joy and hope. So she did the same. Slowly, over the period of a year, one by one, our tradesmen, our scholars, our chil--" 

The woman's voice caught, and Katara saw the tears well in her eyes, as she swallowed it down and continued. 

"Our children; she stole them all away from us. And now? Now we have no hope, no joy. We walk as the dead."

There was understanding in her voice as she leaned over. A soft hand rested on the woman's restless one.

"Your child."

The tears at sat brimming began to fall. She choked out a sob. 

"My son."

Squeezing the woman's hand once, she turned to her friend. 

"Toph?" 

The young woman sat silent for a moment, arms crossed and shoulders raised. With a brisk nod, she turned a resolute gaze towards her. 

"Let's have a chat with a spirit." 

* * *

They sat above the city square; Toph, an ear to the rooftop, and Katara perched at the edge of the awning. The village sat silent, still, and when she swallowed a deep breath, it felt as if she had shattered the quiet. With a casual jump, she entered the city square. 

Sitting at the empty well that served as the village center, blue eyes took in the housing. In the refracted light of the night, the houses showed their quality. Engraved columns covered in mold, sculpted eaves slowly rotting under the harsh sun, metal embossed inlays peeling away-- the city had quality, worth, and the people who had crafted it, full of talent. 

Somewhere in the back of her mind, that thought clung, like a bad smell. This didn't feel  _ right _ for a vindictive spirit. This felt more…

She was unable to finish the thought, as she watched the fog slowly roll in. It was unearthly, moving too quickly for nature. Her eyes narrowed. 

"Do you find my home pretty?" 

With a start, Katara turned to the voice behind her. 

An exquisitely dressed woman of nobility stood before her, face as white as snow; red, plum and gold accented the lines of her face, save for the simple cloth drawn over her mouth and nose. Katara clutched at the warnings of the skeletal woman from earlier, the grieving mother. What was she supposed to say, again?

"Yes, it's beautiful."

Nodding slowly, the spirit's eyes dropped in sorrow. 

"Yes, they took it from me."

Eyes shot back up to her. Blue. Surprisingly, startlingly, blue. The only ones she knew with blue eyes were…

Her thoughts once more interrupted by this spirit, as she rose delicately manicured fingertips to the simple cloth at her lips. 

"Do you find me pretty?"

"Yes," Katara nodded, "beautiful."

"Yes, they took it from me."

With a flourish, she pulled away the cloth. Beneath it, an angry split of skin where her mouth should be, ripped even further away into a horrific charictiture of a smile across her face. 

"Do you find me pretty?"

The reveal was so dramatic, despite what she had been warned, the young woman found her voice lacking. Before she had regained her voice, the woman's blue eyes flashed, and with a gesture, stopped Katara in her place, even as she rushed forward at her, eyes wild and jaw agape. 

In that moment, the final thing she recognized was the sting of pain between her shoulders, and the world fell black. 

* * *

The black felt thick like a velvet blanket overhead. Belligerently, she swiped at it, trying to push back the unconsciousness, determined to rise into the sunlight of day. 

With a muffled groan, Katara forced herself upright, only to be stopped by a solid hand. 

Toph's. 

Katara turned her gaze to her friend. "What happened?"

"Ya froze, Sugar Queen. When the woman finally reached you, you were unconscious on the floor. I made a big deal of arriving, which caused the Onna to run away." She shrugged nonchalantly, "Now we were just waiting for you to wake up."

A pang of pain and hunger skipped through her. 

"How long was I out?"

"2 days."

"2 days?!" Katara shrieked. "I'm running out of time! I've got to be down at the village, and that was way too long to be out."

"Relax, Katara. We'll make it on time." She shook her head. "You're starting to sound like Snoozles."

A retort bounced through her head, ( _ maybe he's on to something, since you don’t seem to be taking this timing seriously _ ) but she bit it down. 

"Sorry, Toph, you're right."

A smug smile pulled at her lips. "Of course I am."

Rolling her eyes, she turned the subject to the matter at hand. 

"Toph, the other night? Onna?"

An expectant eyebrow rose. 

"That wasn't a spirit. That was a waterbender."

* * *

It had been a few years since she had last donned the garb of the Painted Lady, but if she were to face a spirit tonight, she would meet one with another. And if it was as she expected, something less than ethereal, using the guise of an angered spirit could be useful to those who would reap fear from those who would do the same to harm others.

As she found herself once more waiting on the eaves, Katara felt a sense of serenity. There had been no doubt that what she had witnessed the night prior had been bloodbending, stopping her in her tracks. While the sight of the Onna had been frightening, she had seen many things worse-- the sight of the Onna's mutilated face was nothing worse than the village full of burned children she had seen in the north, casualties of a massive fire that had swept their town. 

Toph and Katara had done their best to offer relief, but it was the first time Katara remembered feeling completely at a loss to help. The wounds were old, but still raw. No one from either nation, Fire or Earth, had come to help them. Talking with the elders, they had told her a story of no man's land. The Fire Nation had withdrawn before the blaze, but the colonials had remained, so the Earth Kingdom had considered them still under the jurisdiction. After a game of finger pointing, they slipped through the cracks. The fire had been a year prior. 

Toph had hung her head in shame. The blind young woman seemed to hold no real binds to either nation, from what Katara could tell. She was of the Earth Kingdom, but spent just as much time in the Caldera guarding Zuko as anywhere else. Both of her nation's had failed this small village. They had spent the majority of their time in that place, trying to heal the rifts of scarred wounds. Maybe when Katara wrote Zuko again, she would mention that small town.

Activity in the town square pulled her from her thoughts and back to the present. Toph sat seemingly vulnerable, this time, but her foot rested solidly on the ground. She was completely aware. As the unnatural fog began to roll in, Katara took stock, and slid herself as silently as possible off the roof top and into position. Taking stock, she searched for the second in the ruse. They would have to be in eye line, close enough to make the hit, but far enough away to not be spotted. 

A small motion. There. At the tree line, just outside the city, she spotted them. They were damn good shots to make it that far, but it wasn't impossible. 

"Do you find my home pretty?" The soft voice turned Katara back towards her friend. A growl bit at the back of her throat, and the Painted Lady had arrived. 

* * *

Toph stood stock still, her face contorted in manufactured fear. Under foot, however, she could feel the heartbeat of the woman threatening her. As well as the Painted Lady, who now neared them. With a singular motion, the fog dissipated, clinging only to the hem of red-smeared river spirit. A husky voice emerged from under the line of a battered rice hat. 

"You have sculpted this city to the shape of your agony."

The Onna stumbled back, and with a clairvoyant swipe, the Painted Lady twisted, knocking something silver and sparkling from the sky with a trail of water. A gleam of anger in her eye, and she threw the water towards the shooter, wrapping him up and dragging him (not so gently) across the rooftops. As he neared, the water spirit turned back to the guise of the Onna, snatching her feet as she turned on her heel to attempt to escape. The action threw her to the floor, and the vengeful spirit drug the two imposters towards each other with a crash. With a singular gesture, she acknowledged the earthbender behind her, and Toph smirked gleefully. 

With a twist of hands and foot, the two were encapsulated in a mound of earth, their heads the only thing above the stone that surrounded them. 

Drawing herself up to her full might, she allowed the righteous indignation fill her words. 

"You have haunted these people, stolen their children, mothers, fathers.  _ Why _ ?"

Her last word hissed, and she allowed the light of the full moon to fill her. Without her hands, the other waterbender was helpless, and the thought of using waterbending on the spirit before her seemed a death warrent, so she had chosen to flee before the Painted Lady instead of fight. It was the risk Katara had been willing to take. 

"We- we were just doing what are boss told us to!"

With a slender finger, she pulled away the half mask at the woman's mouth. The illusion that had seemed so real of her far too large mouth was nothing more than stage paint, and as she spoke, her lips looked more like a child's rendition than reality. She leaned in menacingly. 

"Boss? And who is that?"

"It- it's the Triad. In Ba Sing Se. They're doing something… looking for someone…"

Blue eyes flashed behind the veil and the younger woman flinched away. 

"Who are they looking for, and why?"

"I don't know. I don't know!"

The other assailant had remained silent, and as she rounded to eye him, she could see why. In his eyes, he saw the fear of the dieties held away, and his wide eyes refused to meet hers.

"Do you know?"

Wordlessly, he whimpered as he shook his head. 

Turning, she spotted Toph hiding in the mists, effectively concealing her as the source of the earthbending, her lips turned up into a malicious smirk. She lightly tapped her foot once, and the younger woman nodded slightly in return. 

Glancing over her shoulder, she rose her body to its full height. Venom laced her husky words. 

"Leave. Don't ever return. Do not return to where you are dwelling. If you don't leave, I will not be as benevolent. Do not cross paths with me again."

A loud crash echoed through the empty village as the earth fell away from the two. Without a second glance they sped away from them, out of town, heading north. The Painted Lady held the fog heavy around her, as the two that had terrorized the small town disappeared up and over the hill. 

Slowly, the inhabitants of the town began to emerge in silent reverence. The skeletal woman was the first to approach her. 

"The spirits come to us in many forms." She dropped to her knees before the Lady, green eyes gaining a spark in what had been dead before. "I thank you for your benevolence, oh Spirit."

Placing a hand on her shoulder, the Painted Lady smiled softly. 

"I will return your hope and joy to you. What is your child's name?"

"Qin."

Nodding, the Spirit turned a glistening eye upon the village. She knew that her guise had only worked so far. If this Triad had a search, they would send someone else, if deemed worthwhile to continue in Yomi. She just hoped she had shown that the trouble wasn't worth it. Either way, she knew her time to leave had arrived. A small shuffle in the fog that clung to her like a robe, and she knew that Toph stood prepared with their possessions. Turning back to the woman with the sad eyes, she cast a enigmatic smile to her. 

"Qin will be returned to you."

With one more casting glance, she turned away, knowing the blind earthbender followed silently in her wake. It wasn't until they had long escaped the sight of the village that Katara stopped, pulled the rice hat from off her head, and sunk to her knees in the soggy leaves. 

When she looked back up at her friend, red paint mixed with her tears and in the moonlight, they streaked like blood across her face. 

"There's so much pain, Toph. I've been away from it too long. How am I supposed to help? What can I do?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The intro for the next chapter:
> 
> As time is want to do, it passed swiftly, albeity subtly, much like a deep current under an ice floe. Only a few months after the cancelled wedding to the Avatar, Fire Lord Zuko found himself at the helm of a ship, feeling a form of detachment from the de ja vu as he watched the brilliant white and vibrant blues and greens of the untouched snowy plains of the South Pole unravel before him. He had found no reason to visit since the last time; the first time he had spotted the Avatar. But the message had arrived from Hakoda, begging for assistance, and to speak with him in person to settle some of the concerns of his tribe. 
> 
> (Zuko's in the South Pole, and I feel like theres supposed to be someone else there soon, too....?  
> I'll have the next chapter up within a few days. Yes I'm irregular with posting. I blame the toddler.)


	4. Aurora

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So... I have this (in broad strokes) plotted out. However, between chasing a toddler around, trying to build my VA portfolio, and working part-time, there's nothing guaranteed as to my timing on updates. Sorry! I'll try my best to keep up regularly as much as possible.
> 
> And, as an aside, I love you all for your kind words and feedback!! Thank you so much- it means a ton!!

As time is want to do, it passed swiftly, albeit subtly, much like a deep current under an ice floe. Only a few months after the cancelled wedding of the Avatar, Fire Lord Zuko found himself at the helm of a ship, feeling a form of detachment from the deja vu as he watched the brilliant white and vibrant blues and greens of the untouched snowy plains of the South Pole unravel before him. He had found no reason to visit since the last time; the first time he had spotted the Avatar. But the message had arrived from Hakoda, begging for assistance, and to speak with him in person to settle some of the concerns of his tribe. 

Respect laced the words of his message, and Zuko had fought back feelings of shame. A mighty man, proven brave time and time again, who's own village had been threatened by the man he asked for help from; who was Zuko to him? He would much rather have an advisor, someone who could properly address the concerns, smoothing his Fire Lord's prior young vehemence. But the Chieftain had asked for him specifically. And as such, Zuko swallowed his pride and agreed, setting off immediately for their shores.

As the ship ran itself to shore, the sound of ice on metal broke through his thoughts. Shaking off the past, there were a few more thoughts nagging at the back of his mind. 

His thoughts once more returned to the man who had called him here. Not only was he Chieftain and a warrior, he was Sokka's - and Katara's - father. While they had met briefly prior, Zuko was a different man now. He wished to have gained his trust. However, the preoccupying concern at this thought laid more with his next quandary. 

Was Katara there?

He had found himself at the gangplank, preparing to land, thoughtlessly. Shaking his head, he attempted to push away that thought. Why would she be here? Her entire plan had been to travel, to see the world, to  _ help _ the world. It was doubtful she had returned to her old home yet. 

However, part of the call from Hakoda had been in regards to both a slim hunting season, and a sickness that many of the tribe had fallen ill with. Aboard his ship, Zuko had brought both food and medicines. There was a slim chance she had returned to help, and that thought added a slight lift to his step. 

Over the years, their friendship had grown, and he had quickly found her fast wit, acerbic tongue, laced with a gentle smile, endearing. But for the longest time, both had their own lives, their own loves. And yet, they had always seemed to come crashing back together. Each time, he found it harder to go his separate way from her. Abstractly, he wondered if she found it similarly difficult.

Frustrated, he reached up to run a hand through his hair, only to stop short. While his hair had been drawn up into it's topknot, a significantly subdued insignia rested at its zenith. His clothes, more ornate than he cared for, were still more practical, laced with the blues of the water tribe, and remarkably warmer than his typical royal garb. Remembering the topknot, he corrected himself, bringing his mind back to the then and there. As the plank landed, he settled an expression of stoicism across his face, and began his descent.

That illusion was quickly shattered when Sokka bounded up the ramp, a grin plastered across his face, to wrap him up in a bear hug. Zuko, happy to shed the pretense, eagerly returned the gesture. 

Stepping back, Sokka kept his hands on his friend's shoulders. 

"Your timing couldn't be better!"

"Oh?" 

A ridiculously large smile stayed at his lips. 

"Suki's in labor! I'm about to be a dad!"

"I don't know if I should congratulate you or apologize to Suki."

His smile dropped for a moment. "I'm going to pretend you didn't say that."

Zuko threw a lopsided smirk at his friend, and Sokka's grin returned. Together they walked down the plank, Sokka regaling the Fire Lord with stories of strange food urges, violent mood swings, and radiant joy. By the time Zuko's feet crunched the snow, his thoughts of pomp were gone. 

In a blink, he was before Hakoda, now eye-to-eye with the man. A moment of panic settled in his belly, as with the pomp's departure, so had all of his preparation. However, the Chieftain merely shared a knowing smile with his son, and offered the leader of the Fire Nation a deep bow. Zuko returned it in kind. 

"Greetings, Fire Lord Zuko."

"Chieftain Hakoda." He extended his hand, as in the tradition of the water tribe, and the older man's brows rose in surprise. Grasping the younger man's forearm, a small smile pulled at his lips. 

The Fire Lord waved away the show, and his face settled comfortably. 

"Please, just call me Zuko. I owe a great deal to you and your family- a title is not for friends."

"Friends?" Sokka scoffed beside him, clapping him on the back. "Try family, buddy."

Sending a small smirk towards his friend, he remained silent. The older man broke through the companionable interaction. 

"Just Hakoda then, young man."

Zuko nodded, gratitude across his face. He turned back to the attendants and crew. 

"Please, offload the supplies."

Instantly, his people jumped to action, and the men returned their attention to each other. 

"We're grateful for the help, Zuko." The Chieftain spoke warmly. 

"It's my honor. We have plans for the crew to return to the nearest port to restock and bring in another batch of supplies for your tribe, while I continue with you all, finalizing the arrangements we had discussed prior. That is," he added sheepishly, suddenly recognizing that what he offered could be perceived as impinging on their hospitality, "if that is okay."

The smile on Hakoda's face reached his eyes, and he clasped the younger man's shoulder. 

"You will always be welcome here. I know what  _ you've _ done for  _ my _ family."

Together, the three started to move into the village, only to be stopped in their tracks with a voice he had convinced himself he would not hear.

"Sokka! It's happening!! Get in here now before this Kyoshi Warrior drags you in here while giving birth!"

Katara was here. 

* * *

That night, a small angry bundle of fists and cries came into the world, and she was certain to let the entire village know. 

Sokka emerged from their home, tears in his eyes, moving towards his father. 

"Hey Grandpa. Wanna meet your granddaughter?"

Zuko smiled softly as ever so gently, Sokka turned his daughter over to his father. The thought suddenly occurred to him, along with the gravitas of its meaning: he could easily be a father himself. And as he watched Sokka gently cradle his daughter's head as she blinked up at the two men, he felt a twinge of longing. To hold, to love and nurture - his own child. Shaking his head, he pushed away the thought. One had to have someone to marry, a person to share this joy with. That was a definite missing part to the equation. 

A headache that had been slightly annoying all day flared, and in frustration, the young man pulled out the insignia in his hair and released it from it's topknot. The feel of it on the nape of his neck, on his brow, was oddly comforting. 

"It looks better that way."

Her voice behind him caused him to jump slightly. While her comment had been to him, by the time he had turned, Katara was back to watching her brother and his new daughter. She had a wistful expression on her lips, even as she continued to ferry bloodied water and rags out from the room where Suki laid recovering. Her voice had caught her brother's attention, and he turned an expectant look towards her.

"Suki?"

A calming smile. "She's fine. Hurting, like she should be, but nothing has gone wrong. She'll heal quickly."

Hakoda reluctantly returned his granddaughter to his son's arms, and Sokka turned to Katara and thereby brought her closer towards Zuko as a consequence. 

"So, sis, wanna actually meet your niece, instead of just delivering her?"

A corner of her lips twisted into a wry smile. "I'm pretty sure that's the most intimate way of meeting her."

Blue eyes sparkled as she held out her arms towards her brother. 

"But I'll be more than happy to introduce myself properly."

And so they easily fell into a comfortable conversation. At first, Zuko felt out of place, as though intruding, but when Sokka shoved his daughter into his arms, introducing him as "Uncle Zuko", all fears of intrusion disappeared. 

Far into the night, Hakoda, Zuko and Katara pushed out into the light of the moon, and the dancing aurora. The sky aflame with color, Zuko stopped. He had seen auroras prior, when he had been on his search many years prior, but never this intense. Even Katara sighed. 

"The spirits are happy tonight. This was a good night and sky to be born under."

Hakoda nodded solemnly. 

"Thank you again, my dearest, for coming to help with the delivery. It should have been your.. well…"

"It should have been Mom. I know, Dad." She gently tapped the necklace at her throat. "I'm honored to have the privilege. I wouldn't have it any other way."

Zuko watched the grizzled warrior wrap his daughter up tightly. His heart ached, even after so many years, for that gentleness. He stepped back, turning to leave the family to their own privacy. 

"Where are you going?" 

Stopping, he glanced over his shoulder to the source of the voice. Blue eyes, dancing like the aurora above, stared back at him. 

"Um,..." He scratched the back of his neck, "I didn't want to intrude. Just was going to head to the place I was given to stay at."

Mirth danced behind her eyes.

"First off, it's that way." She gestured the exact opposite of his direction.

"Oh." A slight blush touched his cheeks. 

"Secondly," she untangled herself from her father's embrace, and turned fully towards him, "I'd think you knew me well enough to know that I'll always tell you when you're doing something wrong."

The quirk at the corner of her lips, along with a hand at a hip, displayed her mirth. Zuko couldn't prevent the smile that tugged at his lips, and he was grateful for the mottled light to hide the reddening of his cheeks. 

"You've never had a problem with that in the past."

Katara moved closer, wrapping him up in an unexpected hug. She lingered, her breath warm on his neck, and he returned it readily. 

"It's good to see you, Zuko."

"You too, Katara."

The sound of a throat clearing, and he popped his head up, suddenly remembering the Chieftain's presence. And in the same rush, his relationship with the young woman he lingered in an embrace with. The heat in his cheeks spread to his ears, but before he could take any steps to resolve it, she broke free. 

Looking to where her father waited just beyond them, Katara felt a wave of embarrassment she couldn't pin immediately wash over her. Then she recognized the look on her father's face, and she sighed. Breaking away, she trudged towards him, exasperated, Zuko following.

An innocent look on his face, her father rose a brow. 

"What is it, Katuh?" 

The use of her childhood nickname brought the blush on her cheeks to the forefront, but instead of responding, she stuck her tongue at him. 

"I was just figuring that the Fire Lord," Hakoda threw a wink the young man's way, "might need some sleep before the day rose again."

"Then lead the way, Dad."

* * *

She knew she should be sleeping. But the thought of sleep made her more angry than anything. Instead, she sat cross-legged upon her furs, a single source of light from a nearby oil lamp fluttering across open pages, scrolls and maps. With a steady hand, she made notations and took notes. In the shadows, between the gutters of the lamp, she could see the woman from Yomi, her dull eyes pleading with her. 

Rubbing her brow, Katara sighed. Ty Lee had made it abundantly clear that this quest of hers was far beyond the ability of one or two. The more Katara poured over the papers, the more she was inclined to agree. 

When they had stopped in Kyoshi Village a week prior, Katara had immediately gone to the young woman, who had become the de facto leader of the Warriors in Suki's absence. She had tried to justify returning to Ba Sing Se immediately, swearing she could find a way back in time for the birth of her niece. 

Ty Lee agreed only to help her, once Katara had promised to help Suki with the labor first. 

"You should always keep promises to your family." She had said. "You only get one of those. And besides, Suki’s aura is all yellow and orange. She needs your help too.”

The waterbender had found it difficult to disagree. So once they had reached an agreement, Ty Lee turned over a large quantity of paperwork. The Triad was a new gang, made up of the three main benders left in the world- fire, earth and water. While they were new, they had quickly shot from the bottom to becoming one of the biggest crime syndicates in the area. The biggest export they seemed to have was in human lives. As she read on, the reports brought bile to her lips, and that woman's pleading eyes grew more desperate in the shadows. 

However, she knew both from the size and quantity of the scrolls given her, this was going to take more than just her and Toph to resolve. Ty Lee had made sure to reinforce that idea. 

"Listen, Katara. I know you want to help, but fighting this gang is not as easy as cleaning a river."

"Is it as easy as defeating a Crown Princess?" Katara's words were dark, and she instantly regretted them as she saw the shadow pass over the spirited young woman's face. "I'm sorry, Ty Lee."

In a flash, the shadow was gone, and she gave an airy wave. 

"It's going to be both easier and harder, Katara. Easier in that none of them are as strong as Azula. Harder in that there are going to be a lot more of them. And better organized. This is not going to be a day project."

The blue eyed woman bowed deeply, and offered a gentle smile. 

"Thank you for your help and insight."

Ty Lee, in return, wrapped her up in a hug. 

Alone in her home, the waterbender now sighed. Not a day project, for a certainty. But, she tapped her pen gently at the side of the scroll, she might have just found their weakness. 

* * *

Toph had nodded, a mouthful of food still being masticated, and begun talking. She had made landfall midday, anticipating the arrival of Suki's labor to be quick once Katara had arrived. Sitting across from Katara, she had listened intently to her traveling companion. 

"That's fine and all, and it sounds like it might work. But we need to take a break."

"We don't have time to--"

"Yes we do." While her eyes were fixated on the wrong place, her finger was steadily and accurately trained on her. "We've been traveling, helping,  _ working _ this whole trip. You need a breather, even if it's only for a day or two. Winter is still far enough away so we have enough time to catch a boat when we need it."

"Toph--"

The blind girl shook her head, her brow furrowing. 

"No, I'm not taking suggestions. I'm going to sit around the fire, eat and drink what I want, and - unfortunately - have to listen to Sokka and Suki make more cooing noises at each other and the munchkin.  _ That _ is going to be my next two days. Figure out what yours is going to be, but it better not have anything to do with the Triad. Clear?"

Katara couldn't fight the smirk on her face, but she tried to harden her voice. She knew she wasn't successful. 

"Fine."

* * *

The day had been filled with diplomatic activities- discussions of trade, boundaries, and at his request, reparations. At first, Hakoda refused to hear of it- but after the young Fire Lord's insistence, the Chieftain had acquiesced. 

Leaning back from the table, Zuko sighed. Back aching from being hunched over the low table, he rolled his shoulders. A huff of air turned his attention up to the Chieftain across from him. An amused smirk pulled at the older man's face. At Zuko's curious brow, Hakoda nodded slightly. 

"This is why I would always choose to be a Chieftain than a Lord or King. These kinds of days are daunting, overwhelming, and filled with too much…" he gestured vaguely around them, "formality."

The two were the only ones left in the small hut, all the meetings finished for the day. Hakoda had moved from his upright position, stretching his legs before him. All rigidity was gone, and he spoke as a father than a ruler. 

"I don't envy you, Zuko."

A snort escaped Zuko, and he relaxed his posture as well, propping up a knee to rest an elbow on. 

"I do envy you. The paperwork is never ending. I would love to have a day of leisurely doing anything else."

"Well, your ship doesn't return for another few days, correct?"

The Fire Lord nodded, and he felt the slight shift in the emblem resting in his topknot. 

"I know there are only a few remaining meetings. Why not shuffle them and take tomorrow off? I'm sure Sokka would love some help with some fishing. And there's plenty of ice floes this time of year to do some ice dodging, if you're up to it."

"I- I think I might just do that."

A good natured smile lit up Hakoda's face, and he clapped the young man's shoulder. 

"Anytime you need it, the South Pole could use a 'diplomatic visit'." 

Zuko met the older man's eyes with a matching smile. Where worry had eaten at his belly before he had arrived, now only a settled comfort rested now. Hakoda had welcomed him as if he were already family, and made no qualms about his presence, even at the arrival of his granddaughter. 

A voice called from outside the door. His heart betrayed him, as he heard who it was - Katara. 

"Dad? Zuko? The feast is just about ready."

Yeah, he could definitely see coming back regularly for a visit.


	5. Trust

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Soooo... originally I had what is now chapters 4 and 5 with the next chapter as one full chapter. But I'm a glutton for punishment (and an honest to God slow burn) so now... it's three chapters. If this is any indication how the rest of this story is going to play out, I'm going to have no sleep.
> 
> If you can't tell, I've fallen a bit off the wagon- I usually like responding to each comment, but trying to get this chapter together along with a bunch of other crap has prevented me from doing what I like to do. So, if I haven't responded to you, please know it's only because of ability, not desire. Your comments are all so beautiful, guys, and I can't tell you how much I appreciate and feed off of them. <3333

The morning was fresh and new when Zuko stepped outside. He had been awake for hours, long before venturing out of his fur lined tent. After all, Agni neared the winter solstice, and he kept the sky ablaze for longer this close to the south. As such, Zuko felt the restlessness in his bones, and had awoken long before the rest of the tribe had. He had kept to his tent, finalizing his shift in schedule, thereby securing his freedom for the rest of the day. 

When he finally emerged, he was greeted by the flow of an active tribe, as it's members ducked in and out of tents, huts and homes. Feeling a bit lost, he gazed about the activity, searching for a familiar face to latch on to. He had become so accustomed to a schedule, that being without one felt like he was adrift at sea. Fortunately for the young man, his eye caught the motion of a familiar wolf-tail over a wash of dark skin. A frantic hand rose, waving. Zuko couldn’t stop the small smirk that pulled at his lips. 

While word from Katara, outside of Aang, had been sparse over the past five years, Sokka did not have the same reservations. Apart, the diplomatic letters often were laced with personal information and humor, to the point where advisors had long stopped trying to intersect and interpret them before handing them off the Fire Lord. When in person, many a night, they were found together after some diplomatic engagement or another, at one of Zuko's private studies, or in the gardens, strategizing over ridiculous campaigns (one especially drunken night led to the Great War of the Sky Bison, against the small but feisty lands of the Air Plains Lemurs -- Momo held his own admirably), discussing politics over nigorizake, and in general, sharing rumors of their friend’s lives, that both men had slowly found themselves falling out of. It was the similar distancing; Zuko’s due to his new role, Sokka due to his new responsibilities in the South Pole and in the different capitals, as well as a husband and father, that had led to an easy camaraderie. 

Now watching his friend bob through the crowd, his boomerang held up as a standard, Zuko couldn’t resist the smirk that pulled across his face. Sokka finally was deposited in front of him, panting exaggeratedly. 

“It didn’t use to be this busy around here…”

A dark brow rose. “What happened?”

“The Northern Tribe.”

“Ah.” The Fire Lord nodded. He had seen the surprising growth of the small tribe in the South in comparison to the many years prior when he had first stepped foot on to that ice shelf. A wave of deja vu swept over him, and he forced that angry boy back down, under years of responsibility. 

His friend refused to allow him time for his own thoughts, though. 

“They may have changed a lot around here,” before adding a quiet aside of _‘and bred like mice-rabbits_ ’ and then continuing, “but there are plenty of our traditions we hold on to. I count it my duty to ensure you get to experience a few of them today.”

“Sokka,” the Fire national turned a weary eye towards his friend, “I’m not looking to do _more_ diplomatic events today.” 

A grin split the blue-eyed man’s face. “Good thing our traditions don’t consist of sitting around fires, reading from dusty scrolls.”

Curiosity peaked in Zuko, and he followed as the other man gestured to follow him into the foot traffic.

“Oh? What do your traditions consist of?”

“I’m pretty sure my dad mentioned ice dodging to you last night?”

“Yeah.”

“Guess that’s where we’ll have to start.”

“Wait.” Zuko stopped, a look of concern crossing his face. “Wait. I thought that was a name of a game or something metaphorical. It's not, is it?”

Sokka grinned mischievously. 

* * *

Just outside of the growing and bustling city, the two men trekked across open white plains. A crisp breeze whipped against a pale cheek, struggled at a wolf-tail, and pulled at the brown tarp across the muddled shape before them. 

“Is that a boat?” the amber-eyed man spoke first.

“Yep.”

“But the water’s at least 100 meters away.”

“Yep.”

“O-kay.” A perplexed expression crossed his face as he watched his impish friend. “If that’s not a problem, then why are we still standing here, waiting, while the tarp is still over the boat.”

“ZukoZukoZuko... “ Sokka spoke in a rush, and if anything, his smile only grew. “You’re not asking the right questions.”

The Fire Lord turned his body entirely to face him, a hand impatiently thrust to the still water vessel. 

“I don’t know, Sokka. These questions seem _pretty relevant_ , when we're standing nowhere near water,--"

"The cold makes you cranky."

"-- with a boat under a tarp, and doing absolutely _noth--_ ”

“Sorry I’m late!”

Her voice lilted over the icy plains, and while as carefree as a feather on the wind, it hit Zuko with all the force of a boulder. Sokka merely grinned wider and clapped the suddenly very pale firebender on the shoulder.

“Toph just got here,” Katara huffed as she hurried closer, seemingly unaware of the effect her sudden proximity had on the Zuko, “I had to make sure she got to her tent.”

“Waterbender…” Zuko muttered, “of course you don’t need to be by the water.”

Sokka laughed heartily. “See, now you’re thinking like Water Tribe.”

Katara met his eyes before rolling them at her brother. 

“What are we waiting for, Sokka? I thought you would have already prepped my boat.”

Golden eyes widened in surprise. “Yours?”

“Yeah, it was what I would work on whenever we were back here. Kind of a 'keep my hands busy' project when… when I was alone. I’m not going to have enough time to work on it this time, though.”

She didn’t have to mention who the ‘we’ was, and Zuko wasn’t about to push any further. Moving on, she quickly pushed away from the subject.

“Last thing I heard, Sokka’s boat had a run in with a certain pack of feral polar dogs.” 

“It’s like they knew I had meat onboard!”

“Maybe because they can smell meat…” She raised a brow expectantly at him, and her older brother stuck a tongue out in response. In that instant, it was easy to imagine them all five years younger, with only the salvation of the world burdening them, rather than the care of it. Zuko felt hope stir for the day; maybe the siblings could be exactly what he needed.

* * *

It had taken precious little time to unwrap the boat, and even less for Katara to create the channel and slide for her boat to reach the icy seas. All aboard, the trio moved off the shoreline, and out into the sea. Zuko watched with fascination as the two danced about the ship, facilitating their forward motion against the waves. He was a willing hand, but inexperienced, and often found himself in the way. Neither of the siblings mentioned it, but rather continued to offer suggestions. Finally far enough away from the shore, the pace of the boat’s inhabitants slowed, and Sokka slipped back to the stern, the tiller solidly tucked under an arm. Katara moved to confirm rope tie-offs before making her way to the bow. Somewhere between them, Zuko inhabited space. Uncertain of his interactions with Katara, he moved to safer waters. He picked his way stern.

“We’re heading to deeper waters?” Zuko raised his voice to be heard over the spray and wind.

“Just to be able to make a wider curve.” A blue eye shot back to the shore, before nodding sagely. “That should be good enough.”

There was a slight shift in his posture and grip at the tiller, and Zuko felt the ship start to broach the waves. An unexpected wave tapped the boat a bit harder than the inhabitants had expected, and the two standing both stumbled. A bark of a laugh bounced back from the bow, as Katara turned, clinging to the boat’s edge. She moved steadily towards them, and the firebender watched with fascination as the wind pulled her hair from her neatly arranged style and danced it across her face. The smile that lit up her face warmed the part of his soul that was chilled with uncertainty. Before he could consider his own internal resolution, and what it meant, she was on them. 

“Have you told Zuko what this all entails?”

“Nah, it’s more fun to throw him into the deep end.”

Icy eyes drilled into her brother. “This is _my_ boat. My pride and _joy_ . You pushed plenty just by _asking_ if it could be used for ice dodging. And now you’re telling me that you haven’t even told him what to expect?!”

“You know he won’t hurt your ship.”

“I’m not worried about him!” The intensity in her gaze left no doubt where her worry laid. “You damage my ship, Sokka, and I will personally freeze your tongue to the top of your mouth for the next day.”

A dark broad finger shot to his own forehead, as if there was something there to prove a point. 

“Sokka: The Mark of the Wise!”

“Wisdom and Common Sense are two separate things when it comes to you, idiot!”

“What, is the Mark of the Brave suddenly chicken?!?”

Aghast, Katara’s jaw fell slack. 

“Why, you…”

The smirk pulling at Sokka’s face was suddenly drenched. Zuko bit his lip to stop from laughing. Katara was under no such restrictions, and laughed heartily at her brother’s astounded expression. Leaving her brother to drip dry, the waterbender turned to Zuko.

“Alright, so here’s what you need to know…”

* * *

Zuko, now fully appraised of his new role, stood at attention, his grip white-knuckled on the mainsail tack. Katara took her place happily at the bow of the ship, her own jib tack sitting comfortably in her own grip, while Sokka kept his eye on the horizon from his place by the tiller. 

Before them, rapidly approaching, sat a series of icebergs, ranging from tall juts of white, to only a line of blue-green just at the water level. Zuko's grip tightened. Despite the many years at sea, this was a new pastime, something bracing, invigorating, and all-together frightening. Not much different from the very feeling he had experienced when Katara had appeared this morning, the firebender found. 

As if his thoughts were telegraphed to her, icy blue eyes turned to him. 

"You ready, Zuko?"

"No." A laugh bubbled up from his belly, uncontrolled. "But I'm pretty sure I don't have a choice."

"Nope!" Came the cheerful cry from the tiller. "Katara! Loose the line!"

And they fell easily into a rhythm, ropes growing taut or loose in the hands of the trio, and Zuko found his sea legs quickly, as the boat easily darted between the waves and ice. As they neared the edge of the ice floes, a wall of ice, no higher than the hull’s edge, but solid across, emerged from the water's surface.

“Breaker!” Katara yelled over the roar of the waves. 

“I see it!” Sokka wiped away the salty spray from his eyes, a maniacal grin plastered across his face. “Zuko! You’re up!”

“What?!” Golden eyes grew wide. “What do you want me to do?!”

Puckish, the water tribesman laughed. “Punch a hole through!”

_‘Are you insane?_ ’ danced behind the Fire Lord’s lips, but he bit it back. After all, it had been how many years since he had felt this kind of thrill? Instead, he set his teeth, and pushed forward to the bow. Closing his eyes, he filled his lungs with the salty, chilled air. The cold in the air attempted to dampen his fire, and a chill ran his spine. Biting his lip, he dug deep, and sucked in another filling breath, and felt the fire try to gutter, only to flare even brighter. On the exhale, he felt the fire at his lips. 

Eyes flicking open, to see the breaker of ice before them, disconcertingly close now -- 

An inhale, and --

He fell into his stance --

Rounded his shoulders, casting his hands forward, joining his breath of fire --

The ice made way --

They made their passage through the breaker in a sea of steam.

A breath in. A breath out. The fire inside his bones tamed.

A chill spread over his shoulder, and he turned, only to meet all the waters in the eyes staring into his. 

“That’s new.”

Mutely, he nodded, breathing to keep his feet under him. It was a newer move, and as such it took more out of him. Silently, he felt the boat slide across the softer waters, moving back to shore.

* * *

“Well, Zuko,” Sokka was the first off the boat, already digging into his pack, “that was impressive.” 

A small jar had appeared in his hands. Zuko watched him warily. Last time Sokka had pulled out a jar and handed it to him, he blacked out for the rest of the night. This time, though, it appeared he wasn’t about to hand it to him, and instead was looking at his sister somewhere behind him. 

“We told you that this is usually a rite of passage in the tribe, right?” Her voice was quiet, and he turned his head to watch her from the side of his eye. Zuko nodded softly. Sokka drew his attention back.

“Well, buddy, if you want it, you can.”

Confusion furrowed his brow. “Want what?”

“To be part of the tribe.”

“I can?”

“You just proved it.”

“Proved…?”

“That you can be trusted.”

“I thought…” he paused, his mouth suddenly dry.

“That you already had?” Katara’s voice was soft, but bounced about in his skull. He merely nodded in return. “You have to us, Zuko. But this rite isn’t about Sokka and me. It’s not even about our dad.”

“It’s about the Tribe. About the ancestors that watch over it.” Sokka smiled gently. “Believe it or not, Suki had to do the same before the Tribe could accept her, and thereby any potential children.”

“I’m not marrying you, Sokka.” A wry smile pulled at Zuko’s lips. “No matter how many times you ask.”

The siblings laughed, but Sokka calmed remarkably quickly. 

“Listen, Zuko. This isn’t about marrying somebody-- this is a matter of being a part of the people here. It stakes your claim as family, allowing you access to our homes, our provisions. It’s more than our wares, it’s our culture. Dad, well, all of us, thought that what you’ve done for everyone- especially for Katara- it’s past time to make your place in our people official.”

The young man found himself speechless as he listened cautiously. This wasn’t something for the Fire Lord. This was for him, for Zuko. But Zuko wasn’t just himself any more. Now he carried his mantle, and with it all the complexities it held. 

“As much as I… I would like to accept, I can’t. It could easily endanger the precarious balance that’s struck. And the tribe members-- I can’t help but think that they might have some reservations about a Fire Lord, especially the son of Ozai, having any stake in your people or culture.”

He felt her hand on his elbow, but Zuko couldn’t bring himself to look at her. It did not stop her from speaking.

“Then consider this not as from the Tribe, but from our family,” she stepped in front of him, and he could no longer avoid her gaze. Her hand moved to hover in front of him, much like it had that fateful night five years prior. “Please, Zuko. It’s long past overdue.”

The wind from the boat had broken loose some of the shorter strands of his hair, and as he bent his head to meet her eyes, they tickled his forehead, and he rubbed at them with a sigh.

“Okay.” He held a hand up. “Only if this will not stake any physical or influential 'claim’, then yes. I will accept.” 

A brilliant smile pulled at her face, and Zuko wondered at what it did to his heart. Sokka stepped forward, uncapping the jar. Dipping a finger, he coated it with paint, and solidly drew a concave line hovering above his brow. Suddenly, the blue-eyed man turned solemn and his words took on weight.

“The Spirits of Water, bear witness to this mark: For Zuko, the Mark of the Trusted. You are now an honorary member of the Water Tribe.”

Katara was the first to move of the three of them. She wrapped him up in a hug, which Zuko found himself readily returning.

“Welcome, Zuko.” 

Raising a brow, he took a moment to meet her brother’s eye. “No claim?”

The other man laughed, the solemnity quickly being chased away. “Only on a wife, if you wanted it, brother.”

A rush of heat raised to his cheeks, and he moved to release Katara. She moved just as rapidly away, avoiding his eyes as well. Was there a touch of pink in her cheeks as well? His thoughts were dispelled by the clap on his shoulder. 

“Listen, I’d love to go have some more fun with you two, but… I've got a newborn, and a warrior wife who _will_ kill me if I am gone too long.”

Katara turned. “You’re leaving?”

“You’re surprised?” Sokka answered with a shrug. “Besides, I know you two can entertain yourselves- you both need a break.”

“Oh.” Both answered in unison, but refused to meet each other’s eyes. 

Something mischievous glinted behind the tribesman’s eyes. “Hey, Katara, you should take Zuko to the Fortress.”

A furrowed brow met over amber eyes. “Fortress?” 

He didn’t remember seeing anything resembling a fortress on his arrival. Katara turned to him, and Zuko was dismayed to see the same impish look in her eye. “Yeah, that’s a good idea, Sokka. Do you have anything for Kupanuak?”

Dropping his pack to the ground, Sokka dug about, before retrieving a pouch, and tossing it to his sister. “Just make sure to scratch his cheek. He’ll know it’s from me.”

Scratch his… cheek? Zuko found himself perplexed, and the confusion was obvious. When Katara turned back to him, the puckish glint still played at the corner of her lips and the darks of her eyes. 

“Ready, Zuko?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Guys, the next chapter, hooo boi, the next chapter....  
> I just want you guys to read it now, but I've got to finish fleshing it out first....  
> In the meantime, enjoy a snippet:
> 
> His worry was short lived, as Katara met his eye from the table nearest the fire, and waved him over. As he neared, he began to recognize the others sitting at the table.
> 
> With obvious due reverence, the Chieftain Hakoda sat prominently at the head. Sokka, along with Suki and her small bundle of tears, hair and fists sat beside him. Across the table from them sat Toph. Zuko was not surprised to see her, but had been surprised to find that she hadn't arrived with Katara. It had been one of the many questions he had meant to ask the waterbender, which had seemed to be forgotten in the unearthly haze that the afternoon had kept over him. He glanced towards her, wondering if she felt the same contented fog. She was inscrutable, but the firebender seemed to catch a flicker in her gaze. Maybe she was just as lost as he was. 
> 
> He wasn’t left much time to consider this possibility before taking in the rest of the group. Beside Toph, a young man, dressed in Northern Water Tribe style lounged, his expression towards the last member of the party one to make Zuko's fists clench. Sangok again. The subject of the man's adoration pointedly ignored him. Instead, she turned a bright smile towards the young leader she had waved over. Sangok frowned.
> 
> "Zuko, come sit with us! We need to catch up!" Katara gestured to the seat across from her. 
> 
> The fire in his hands started to retreat, and he returned her smile. 
> 
> "I'd love to."
> 
> As he sat, the young ruler took a moment to consider his own reactions. Why had he felt such disgust towards Sangok? A protective streak? He knew that was a large part of his personality - but this was something else. Yes, he didn't want an unwelcome suitor pressing his advantage on her, but she was surrounded by those who would never allow that to happen. This- this was another beast. And, if he was honest, it wasn't the afternoon had not been the first time he had felt it. He remembered feeling that way towards Aang.
> 
> But Aang was his friend. Their friend. So what was it? Somewhere in the back of his mind, he connected it with the feeling he had coil in his belly when he had been surprised by her voice the day prior. 
> 
> Any further consideration of the thought was cut off by her voice. 
> 
> "You look like you are going to burn a hole through the table, Zuko. What are you thinking so hard about?"


	6. The Fortress

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some things are just not worth waiting to publish. So here it is. I just... oh this is cloyingly rich with intimated sexual tension. And this South Pole visit is taking a lot longer than I anticipated, but I just love this too much. 
> 
> Oh, and the previous snippet - yeah that's the next update. Oops. That's what I get for not finishing my writing before hand. So, yeah, you got a snippet in advance. 
> 
> This chapter is like... one of my favorites.
> 
> EDIT: The art is by the indescribably amazing Avenuecab!! Go follow her on Instagram and Tumblr!

The coastline they followed shifted before his eyes, from flat white plains to rugged edges, and towering blue-green cliffs. A sudden point jagged out into the open sea, the cliffs breaking away, leaving the point to stand alone, tall and worn, it’s surface white from blown snow, in comparison to the surrounding blues. Katara pointed excitedly as she raised her voice over the roar of the ocean.

“There!”

Amber eyes followed the line of her finger, but could not pick out the shape of any man-made fortification.

“I don't…”

A laugh colored her words as she interrupted his confusion.

“It’s not a real fortress, Zuko. That’s what Sokka and I always called it.” Her voice was like a siren’s song, and he refused to miss any of the notes. Securing the line, he moved back to her where she sat now at the tiller, his red fur-lined parka doing little to keep the wind from cutting through him. “It’s a cave, with a couple of secrets that we kept to ourselves.”

They neared the slight piece of land that served as the only docking point. Standing, Katara shifted into one of her katas, using slight rocking motions to work against the ocean and breeze pulling them forward. Slowly, the boat calmed, and they slid up onto the ice shelf. 

Securing the line to an icy post she created with a wave, Zuko nodded up at her, and watched her as she picked her way down onto the solid ground. Once there, she turned back to her friend. As he moved to join her, she wrapped a hand around the crook of his elbow, a contented smile on her lips. The waterbender tugged gently at his arm.

“C’mon, Zuko- I can’t wait for you to see this!” Her smile was contagious, and he found himself willingly matching it.

“Okay.” 

Her eyes scanned the white ‘Fortress’ in front of them, and then pointed. Together, still arm in arm, they moved towards her indicated spot: a dark tunnel into the side of the weathered and isolated cliffside. As they neared it, Katara began to regale him with small bits of knowledge about the location. 

They had found it with their father on a fishing trip shortly before he had left to fight in the war. While at first no one knew where the two would disappear to, it didn’t take long for it to be recognized that when they would disappear for any length of time, a plume of white steam would be seen along the western horizon. The exact location and what they had found was a secret that only Hakoda and their grandmother knew about. 

Reaching the entry, it was obvious that the snow had shrunk its size. Katara stepped away, and with a flourish, the impeding snow was blown away. They stepped into the dark, making their way into the depths, pressing forward, until the dark swallowed up most shape and form. The water bender stopped before him, her hand coming to rest again at Zuko’s elbow. Blue eyes caught the faint light from the outside, and she smiled back up at him. 

“Your turn.”

With a smile, he tugged off one of his gloves, and a well contained fire burst into life over his palm. He watched with fascination as the light flickered across her face, as she watched him with a similar expression, before turning away.

“Look.” Her voice was breathless and soft. He followed her gaze, and couldn’t prevent the gasp that escaped him. 

Before him, the cave opened up into a large circular room, it’s walls sculpted by nature, as if a frozen hurricane had wrapped around them, and they alone stood in the eye. The blues caught with his yellow-orange light and practically glowed. He hadn’t noticed that she had moved away until he caught the motion at the corner of his gaze. In the center of the room, a large flat sheet of ice spread out before them. As she moved, he watched as points of light broke loose and filled the room with sunlight. Stepping out into the center of the ice, she dipped low, pausing, before using a sweeping motion, and raising herself up in the action. Directly above her, an open space swept wide, spilling sunlight directly across the ice and spot lighting her. 

Zuko took the moment to watch the water bender in her element, brilliant under the direct midday sun. Blue eyes flicked towards him, and pink flashed over her cheeks. He expected her to turn away, but instead she lowered her head and moved towards him. Extinguishing the fire in his palm, he moved to speak, only for a crashing noise, followed by frantic skittering to turn their attention toward the back of the cave. Katara’s laugh bounced off the walls, and she eagerly rushed towards the source of the sound. 

“Kupanuak!” A lumbering blur of white bolted into the room and straight for Katara. Side stepping at the last possible moment, the polar dog slipped past, and then drifted and aimed directly back at her. She laughed as he made circuits around her, her fingers easily slipping in and out of his white fur. The polar dog slowed, and came around, resting his square forehead against her own. Slipping a hand into the pouch at her side - the one Sokka had provided - she withdrew a slice of jerky, that the dog eagerly snatched up. 

“That’s Kupanuak?” Zuko was certain the surprise in his voice was easily replicated on his face. At the sound of his voice, the polar dog whipped his head around and bounded straight for him. Slipping into a solid stance he braced for the impact, only to have the massive creature slow down and wrap around him, the bright furry side of the polar dog wrapping around his shoulders like a coat. Turning its head, Kupanuak left a slobbery lick across his scarred cheek. Zuko couldn’t stop the smile that lit up his face. The laugh that echoed across from Katara secured its position on his lips. 

“He likes you!”

“So I can tell.”

“Where is the rest of the brood, Kupanuak?” Have they come back for the season yet?” A whine escaped the living blanket still wrapped around the flustered Fire Lord.

“Not yet, huh?” She moved towards them, her hand scratching at the polar dog’s cheek. “That’s from Sokka.” 

The dog suddenly turned towards the entrance anxiously.

“No, buddy, he’s not here today. It’s just me and Zuko.”

Amber eyes turned to her. 

“Brood?”

Katara’s face lit up.

“Kupanuak was a runt.” She ignored the young man’s snort and continued. “So he was abandoned by his mother. For some reason, a brood of otter penguins adopted him. We met him when he was still a pup, but the brood obviously viewed him as family. But otter penguins leave the South Pole during summer, when our days practically don’t exist. So he stays, watching over their claim on the other side of the Fortress, while they’re gone.”

“So did you come here during the summer?” 

She shook her head. “No, during the summer, Sokka and I would leave the Fortress. It’s too cold.”

“It gets colder than this?” Incredulousness laced his words.

Blue eyes danced, but she ignored his protest. “In the winter, Sokka and I would spend days clearing the snow from the sky lights, and ice from the spring.”

“What spring?”

A smile pulled at her lips. “Let’s head to the edge.”

She gestured off of the thick ice sheet. Reaching the soft snow at the edges, Kupanuak moved to sit near the entrance, watching like a majestic spirit guard, preventing access from any unwelcome visitor into the Fortress. Zuko’s attention was pulled away from watching the polar dog and missing its soft warmth at his shoulders. Instead, he watched with fascination as Katara again danced through her kata. Before her, the ice sheet shifted, and he watched as the soft, muddled white cleared, and became like glass, fogged from the other side. The fog roiled and curled like currents. Squinting his eyes, he swore he could make out a flash of blue and green. 

A jagged line split across the shelf, followed by other smaller ones, that doubled and doubled and doubled again, creating a lattice that Zuko was certain would shatter with just the slightest pressure. Twist, turn and a gesture from the young woman, and the spiderweb of cracks grew, the shards raising like crystals in the direct sunlight. One wave, and they were no longer suspended, but rather shot through and out of the cave. In its place, steam rose and coiled about before them. 

“A…” Zuko brought wide eyes to her, “...hot spring?”

Instead of answering, she smiled and started pulling at her gloves and collar. “You might want to dress down. It’s going to get warm quickly.”

“I can’t believe that there’s a hot spring in the middle of the South Pole.”

“Neither could we.” She slipped a bare hand into the water’s edge and sighed. “It’s perfect.” 

Slowly, she began to pull at the togs of her parka, and it’s collar loosened. 

“This is where I learned to swim. It was the only water warm enough to try it in.”

Humidity started to gather at Zuko’s collar, his hair sticking at his neck and forehead. He had begun to grow out his hair in the traditional manner, despite his reservations, and in the humidity of the spring, it hung damp and listless.

“How is this cave able to exist with this sort of heat?” he tentatively joined her in loosening his parka. 

Katara’s response was to shrug. “We always assumed it had something to do with the vents. During the summer here, a thick sheet of ice covers it. We think there’s a hidden volcano nearby.”

“This far south??” He kneeled at the round black stones that covered the shoreline, running his own bare hand across the water. Katara had been right, it was the perfect temperature.

“Volcanoes don’t exist solely in the Fire Nation, Zuko.” Her eyes glinted playfully, and as he watched, she slid the fur lined coat off her shoulders, leaving only her under wrappings. A cautious toe slid into the water, followed by the rest of her. Zuko found himself biting his lip to keep his eyes off the young woman. Righting himself, he determinedly removed his parka and tunic.

“I know that, Katara. I’m just amazed that one would be hidden around here.” The sigh that escaped him when his skin touched the water, was soulful, and he gratefully sunk beneath the surface. No matter the layers and sorts of furs he wore, none could ward off the cold he wasn’t accustomed to. He hadn’t realized that he had closed his eyes until he heard the splash near him. 

Blue eyes sparkled like the water across from him. 

“Somebody looks happy.” Her voice was lilting. 

“Very. Thank you.”

“Don’t thank me. It was Sokka’s idea.” Pushing off from the shallows, she floated upon her back and basked in the sunlight that cascaded from above, a sigh on her lips. “I didn’t think I would have time to come here this visit.” 

“Why?”

A serious expression crossed her face, and Zuko chastised himself. He hadn’t meant to disrupt her good mood. She didn’t notice.

“Toph and I are in the middle of something, and I really need to get back to finish it up. I made a promise that I need to keep.” Dropping her feet, she tread water, a determined look in her eye. “But Toph said that we needed a break, that this was too big to tackle tired. And she’s right.”

A smirk pulled at his lips, but Katara leveled a dark finger at him, a warning in her eyes. “Don’t you dare tell her I said so.”

Hands rose in mock surrender. “Not a word.” 

Eyes narrowing, she watched him from across the spring. If Zuko had not been trying so hard not to watch the young woman, he might have caught the glimmer of a smirk pull at her lips. As it was, when the wave splashed him across the side of his face, he sputtered, and turned an incredulous expression to her. 

“Oh, it’s going to be like that, is it?” 

This time, Katara didn’t bother to hide the smile across her face. As she laughed at his drenched expression, she failed to notice the wave of water moving her way, and instead received a mouthful of salty warm water. Coughing, she tried to regain her composure, only to realize that she no longer could see the young firebender. 

Arms around her waist, she startled as she was dragged under. Released immediately after being brought under, she spun in time to see a flash of red and pale skin move away under the water’s edge. She waited until he surfaced, and returned the favor, by wrapping a water whip around an ankle and pulling. Now both under water, she met his amber eyes, and recognized that they both wore similar expressions. Something in her belly flipped, and she broke the surface, her lungs burning for air. He joined her quickly, but neither let the other rest, and it quickly devolved into a playful water battle. 

Finally tired, the sun starting to slant away, she turned back to the shallows and the shore, and Zuko followed, both seeming to agree on the same course of action. As her bare skin breached the water’s surface, she gratefully let the cold air dance across her body. While cold, the steam had done enough to the temperature of the cave that a fresh glimmer of water coated the walls. The pebble-smooth black stones that rimmed the shore line were warm, and Katara happily sighed as she laid against them. Zuko moved to join her, and in silence they sat staring up at the ceiling and open sky. 

“I never thought there would be a place like this in the South Pole.” His words were soft.

“There’s a lot of surprises around here.”

Her tone of voice caught his attention, and amber eyes turned to her. The sea was waiting behind her eyes as she met his gaze. There was something different, Zuko could feel it. It was a nameless shift, an unknown being. But it was comfortable- it felt right. Rolling up on to his elbow, he kept her gaze, until she flickered down to the scar visible just below his sternum. This time, there was no hesitation, and her fingertips lightly rested on the scar.

“You know,” he said, attempting too hard to sound casual, even as his voice felt huskier than usual, “It’s not fair that you get to use your element like that.”

“Hm?” Her brow furrowed as she looked back up at him. Her fingers still alighted on the edges of the scar. It took all his willpower to stay focused on his thoughts, but he made no move to push her hand away.

He gestured out at the spring. “When being playful like that. You get to use your element lightheartedly. I’m jealous.”

“Oh. Yeah, hadn't thought about that before.”

Nodding sagely, he continued. “I do that kind of thing, and you would get burned.”

If only he could calm his pounding heart. This was dangerous. So very dangerous, he was certain. 

“I’ve been burned before.”

“Oh?” Zuko noticed her words were heavy as well and her eyes were doing something to his stomach. 

“By a boy who didn’t understand his element.” She shifted, her palm resting flat across his scar, as she rolled up on to her elbow as well. They were close. Zuko wasn’t quite sure who or what she meant, but her meaning was cutting through the fog that was beginning to settle across his brain. His free hand lighted over the bare skin of her arm. 

“I’d never want to burn you.” The words felt childish, something a preteen would say to a crush, and he grimaced. But when he reopened his eyes, he found her closer than ever, her eyes now dark as the waters off her village. 

“Maybe I wouldn’t mind being burned by you.”

A breath mingled between them, and Zuko could feel the steam escape his lips. His gentle brush of fingertips on skin, shifted, and he firmly wrapped his hand around her arm, bringing her ever closer. A breath, a pause, her hooded eyes watched his lips, and he watched her as they both leaned in, so close he could feel her breath on his lips, and--

Kupanuak let out an aggressive bark, a growl tempering it. Katara jumped, her cheeks pinking and she sat upright. Zuko let her, the too-clear moment slipping away from him. Sucking in a deep breath, he turned to her, concern in his eyes. Had that all been him? But her hand, her words, the look in her eyes. Shaking his head, attempted to gain his voice again.

“Katara?”

She was on her feet, worry on her brow. 

“Kupanuak doesn’t bark for no reason. Someone else is here.” 

In that moment, the firebender sat up himself, the worries of a moment prior pushed aside for something more important. _Like always, it seemed for both of us,_ he thought. A sneer pulled at his lips but he dismissed it. His frustration felt childish, and he chided himself for it.

“Katara?” A voice, masculine, echoed around the cave. It was chased by the sound of a growl, and a _whoa boy_ and a nervous chuckle. It was not a voice Zuko recognized. 

Katara, however, did and did not seem pleased by it’s presence. 

“Sangok?!”

From the entrance came a young man dressed in Northern Water Tribe regalia, followed closely by a growling Kupanuak.

“Hey.”


	7. Umeshu and Utterances

“What are you doing here? How did you find us?”

“Oh!” The tribesman seemed flustered by her less than friendly greeting. Beside him, Kupanuak growled menacingly, and he tried to throw a disarming smile at both of them. Despite not growling, however, it seemed like Katara’s bite was much worse than the polar dog. “I, uh… Well, Master Pakku suggested I find you, but Sokka mentioned that the steam cloud was out, so you were busy, and I figured that meant all I had to do was follow it…"

A chilly steel came over her, and Zuko watched an edge he was all too familiar with emerge. 

“So, Pakku told you to find me, huh?” Her words were like ice. 

“Yeah,” the young man didn’t seem to catch her anger, and pressed on. Zuko almost felt pity for him. Then the feeling of her breath on his lips dismissed his empathy. “He said you might be alone, and could use some practice against another water bender…”

“He wanted me to… practice waterbending… on my day off… with you.” There was no question in her ground out words, but Sangok plowed onwards, seemingly oblivious to her anger. 

“He also said that it was getting later, and the winter feast was almost ready.”

“Oh, good. We’ll be there shortly.” 

“I- well, I can wait for you…”

“No, it’s okay, you go ahead.”

Sangok stepped further forward, only to retract again as the polar dog snapped at the space directly in front of his ankle. Still, he pressed on.

“It would be wrong for me to leave you here alone, Katara.”

Zuko watched her jaw work, but left her to decide how to proceed. He was still shirtless, and the cold was starting to set in. One way or another, he was going to need to get dressed again, despite still being wet. Between the two of them, however, the firebender was certain they could resolve that minor issue. Looking up, he watched Katara once more shuffle her weight, crossing her arms across her chest. She, too, was still underdressed, her wrappings being the only thing covering her skin. 

“I’m not alone, Sangok. I’ll see you there.”

That was Zuko’s signal. He stood up, allowing his presence to be felt. Gone was the young man who had to fight to be heard or seen in a room, for the last few years of his teenage stage had added the final inches to his height, the sharpness to his jaw, and the fullness to his shoulders and chest. With a simple breath, there was no doubt of his arrival. 

“Oh.” the other young man’s eyes were wide. “I forget that you’re friends with the Fire Lord, Katara.”

“ _ Good _ friends.” Zuko's tone cut through any thought of further discussion. 

"I'm certain the Fire Lord, here, can help with any...  _ concerns _ you might have." A blue eye sparkled under a dark brow as she spoke.

Sangok wisely nodded, and took a step back. “Now that I know you are not alone, I’ll leave you and let the Chief know that you are returning.”

“Make sure that you tell him who told you to find me. I’m  _ sure  _ he’ll  _ love  _ to know.” Zuko was quite certain that he was happy to no longer have to face down the look she was shooting towards the other young man. “We’ll see you there.”

With a final moment of hesitation, the young waterbender paused, only to then nod and slip out of the cave’s entrance. 

Sighing, Katara turned back to her … friend. Is that what they were still? Zuko was as confused as ever. For offering as much clarity as she often did by her presence, the firebender was often just as lost because of her as not. The stormy look in her eyes gave him no salvation. 

“Sorry.” she sighed again. “Let’s dry off. Otherwise  _ Pakku _ ,” she spit his name like a curse, “will send over an army of ‘eligible bachelors’ from the Northern Water Tribe.”

“I thought you liked your new grandfather.”

“I do, when he’s not trying to set me up. He seems to be determined that I should marry and settle down with a good ‘water tribe boy’.” She threw up her hands in frustration. “He was saying it when I was still dating Aang!”

“That’s bad.”

“Yeah. Gran Gran must have mentioned that this was Sokka’s and my favorite place. Probably saw Sokka in town and a white plume out of it, and just assumed he could sic one of his  _ options _ on me.”

"You think he knew about this place?"

"I think he knew that a place existed. I doubt he knows of this place in particular." She sighed and waved a hand. He felt the water stream off of him and his clothes, but a chill instantly replaced it. A shiver ran down his spine, but he raised his body heat to match it. 

"We do need to get back though." 

Zuko nodded his agreement as he watched Katara pull the water from her own clothes and hair.

In silence, they redressed, and he observed as she recovered the skylights with blown snow, and replaced the ice shelf above the spring. Almost immediately, the temperature in the cave plummeted. The young man rekindled a flame in his hand as he watched Katara shiver. He moved nearer to her, placing the fire in his hand between them. For a moment, her blue eyes flickered in the now dim light of the cave, and he recognized the look in her eye as the same from the shoreline. Raising his free hand, he gently rested his fingertips on her cheek. She sighed and leaned into his touch. 

She blinked. 

The moment had passed, and though the smile on her face was a gentle one, it was a far cry from the hungry expression from earlier. He matched her smile, even if a part of him ached that he had missed the opportunity. 

_ No, not again. _ He scolded himself internally as they both turned to leave the cave. Katara stopped to scratch the polar dog's scruff, reminding him of how good of a guard dog he was. She slipped him more jerky.  _ No more missed opportunities. There had been too many as there were. _

Kupanuak turned to Zuko, and rapidly charged at him, tail flailing happily behind him. This time, instead of wrapping around him, the dog pounced, his heavy paws crashing on to the Fire Lord's shoulders. The unexpected nature of it forced him back and the dog giddily began to lick the side of his face. 

"Do you have honey on you again, Zuko?" Katara laughed. 

Shooting her a pointed look, he tried - and failed - to unpin himself from under the furry beast. 

"Are you going to help me, or not?"

"Nah, it's more fun to watch you be forcibly loved by a massive polar dog." But she moved to Kupanuak's side, already brushing him away. Zuko couldn't keep the glare up, and instead happily smiled at the both of them, even as he continued to have a slobbery tongue scrape across his face.

* * *

They hadn't talked much on the ride back, the sound of surf and wind preventing all but essential communication. It was a smoother ride back, since Zuko had finally begun to feel more at ease in the wooden boat. And while his comfort had grown for sailing, his comfort with the tribeswoman who made the boat was failing. 

Neither had commented on what had almost happened in the Fortress. It was foolish and childish, he knew, not to address it. But he had to be certain that something  _ had _ happened before he could discuss it with her, right? His previous conviction over taking any opportunities faltered under the roar of waves. 

Doubt still nipping at his heels, when they arrived at the village again, their conversation remained light until they split away to prepare for dinner. Around the village, there were signs of growth. Taller buildings, solid and sturdy rising from the ice, walls and canals were in the process of being carved out. Only a few buildings stood finished- one was the meeting hall, where he had spent the majority of the day prior. The other was the banquet hall, where he knew the dinner feast would be served. 

So an hour later, he stood before the door to the banquet hall, dressed only slightly more formally, and mentally steeled himself for what he was walking into. There was the niggling doubt that continued to eat at him, concerned over a potential slight to his dearest friend, worry over perceptions (after all they had been together in a state of undress when Sangok had arrived), and his general apprehension with large crowds. 

Closing his eyes, he envisioned his inner flame, and with a few deep breaths, he felt the inferno die down to a small kindling fire. With a new determination, he opened his eyes and the door. 

His worry was short lived, as Katara met his eye from the table nearest the fire, and waved him over. As he neared, he began to recognize the others sitting at the table.

With obvious due reverence, the Chieftain Hakoda sat prominently at the head. Sokka, along with Suki and her small bundle of tears, hair and fists sat beside him. Across the table from them sat Toph. Zuko was not surprised to see her, but had been surprised to find that she hadn't arrived with Katara. It had been one of the many questions he had meant to ask the waterbender, which had seemed to be forgotten in the unearthly haze that the afternoon had kept over him. He glanced towards her, wondering if she felt the same contented fog. She was inscrutable, but the firebender seemed to catch a flicker in her gaze. Maybe she was just as lost as he was. 

He wasn’t left much time to consider this possibility before taking in the rest of the group. Beside Toph, a young man, adorned in Northern Water Tribe style, lounged, his expression towards the last member of the party one to make Zuko's fists clench. Sangok again. The subject of the man's adoration pointedly ignored him. Instead, she turned a bright smile towards the young leader she had waved over. Sangok frowned.

"Zuko, come sit with us! We need to catch up!" Katara gestured to the seat across from her. 

The fire in his hands started to retreat, and he returned her smile. 

"I'd love to."

As he sat, the young ruler took a moment to consider his own reactions. Why had he felt such disgust towards Sangok? A protective streak? He knew that was a large part of his personality - but this was something else. Yes, he didn't want an unwelcome suitor pressing his advantage on her, but she was surrounded by those who would never allow that to happen. This - this was another beast. And, if he was honest, the afternoon had not been the first time he had felt it. He remembered feeling that way towards Aang.

But Aang was his friend.  _ Their _ friend. So what was it? Somewhere in the back of his mind, he connected it with the feeling he had coil in his belly when he had been surprised by her voice the day prior. 

Any further consideration of the thought was cut off by her voice. 

"You look like you are going to burn a hole through the table, Zuko. What are you thinking so hard about?"

His eyes widened, as he fought back a blush. 

"Trade negotiations." He lied, hoping she'd miss any of his cues. Toph didn't. Misted green eyes shot to him. 

"Sparky, is that you?" 

A snort escaped him - evidently she wasn't going to call him out. 

"Hey, Toph." His dark brow rose. "I'm surprised you had to ask."

The young woman scoffed, before leaning back and placing a booted foot on the table, to Hakoda's immediate shock. 

"It's too cold to go barefoot. I'm practically blind!"

Katara laughed, leaning across the stunned tribesman between them, to swat at her friend's foot. 

"Get your feet off the table!" Her voice was laced with a smile, and Zuko couldn't fight the one that tugged at his mouth. 

"Geez!" Toph snorted, "You guys are almost as stuffy as the Fire Nation! Can't a girl rest her feet sometimes?"

"Under the table!" Sokka cried. 

"Now where's the fun in that?"

Aghast, Sangok turned to Katara, as Sokka and Toph devolved into a friendly yelling match. 

"This is rather undignified, don't you think?"

Katara rolled her eyes, turning them to catch Zuko's own. 

“What do  _ you  _ think, oh great Fire Lord?”

Zuko fought to keep the smile off his face, but was fairly certain he had failed. “Toph, don’t do that.”

His voice held about as much force as a well-marinated sea prune. Beside Katara, the Northern Water Tribe man pulled a face. Toph threw an extended middle finger towards Zuko and brought her other foot up onto the table, crossing at the ankle. The waterbender beside her snorted. 

“Seriously, Toph. Food’s coming.”

The reminder of food spurred the younger woman to pull down her feet, an ecstatic smile pulling at her lips. Easily, the group of friends fell into a comfortable banter. Food came and empty plates left. Drinks were poured, and glasses refilled. Steadily, and unacknowledged by the close-knit group, the rest of the dining hall began to empty. Soon the only ones left were the self-proclaimed ‘Team Avatar’, save the Avatar, Sangok and Hakoda. Sangok, however, was fading fast, completely lost as the group threw around their banter like an old blanket. The conversation turned to more current affairs, and Hakoda found his head bobbing. Soon even the Chieftain took his leave. It was Zuko, however, who finally turned to Katara with a querying look. 

“So what all have you been doing in the Earth Kingdom?”

Katara and Toph shared a significant look, and Katara sighed. 

“He asked, Toph.”

“The only exception to the rule, I guess.”

The older woman nodded. Slowly, she started their tale, beginning in the small Fire Nation colony, with the burned women and children, and ending in Yomi, with the sunken cheeks and missing hope. 

“... and then when I woke up, Toph and I decided it was time to reintroduce the Painted Lady to the ‘Onna’. So out came the red face paint and veil -” Sokka crooned in response. He may have at one time spoken against her escapades as the eco-vigilante, his tune had changed, encouraged further by the liquor that had been flowing freely. Katara continued. “- and when they returned, I was waiting for them.”

Sangok had been all but forgotten in the telling (and the sake) but his presence was made clear again by the sound of indignation that escaped him. 

“You… impersonated a spirit? A Fire Nation spirit, at that?!” 

A nervous look passed around the remaining group, except for Toph. She grinned like a feral pygmy puma. Katara was the first to respond. 

“Um, yes?” 

“What would make you think that was okay?!”

Dark brows furrowed over stormy blue eyes. “And who are you to say it isn’t?”

The other waterbender seemed to catch the chill in the air. Dropping his gaze, he shuffled, finally pulling himself onto his feet. “I - I think I’m going to go to bed. Goodnight.”

He pulled himself into a reasonable approximation of a respectful bow before stumbling out of the hut. The dining hall was all to the five old friends, the newborn asleep on furs nearby her mother. Toph sighed loudly.

“I was wondering how much indignity he was going to put up with before he got the hint.”

Katara rolled her eyes, but silently agreed. Across from her, Zuko smiled softly. 

“You were saying?”

* * *

The night stretched long, and the friends extended it with a special bottle of umeshu retrieved from Toph’s bag. In the act of retrieval, something seemed to awaken into Katara’s consciousness. Quickly, she retreated from the hall, leaving her friends and family blinking behind her. For a moment, there was stunned silence, but Toph’s impeded comprehension seemed to catch up. 

“Oh, I know what she went for! She had--”

“Toph!” Katara’s voice cut through the earthbender’s realization. “Don’t ruin it for me!”

Milky green eyes flickered to her. “Never, Sweetness!”

With a plop, Katara situated herself next to Zuko, arranging her retrieved bag on her lap. Blindly, she dug through it, making a small gasp when she evidently found what she had been searching for. In her hand, a package of cloth, furs and leather cord was bundled neatly, and she quickly discarded her large pack. Spreading the package out upon the table, it was slowly unravelled. 

First, a wickedly curved, handled and ornately carved piece of metal. It took a moment for its shape to equate to recognition, in which time, Katara had handed it off to her brother. A sheathed dagger, elaborate scenes embossed on its surface, the dagger looked like it belonged to a king.

“Wha - Where did you get this, Katara?”

A wide smile lit up her face. 

“It was given in lieu of payment for my help in the third village I visited - the one with the poisoned well? They refused to let me leave without taking something, and they barely let me leave with just that.”

“I would have taken the gold.” Toph muttered.

“No you wouldn’t have.” Blue eyes looked knowingly. 

The younger woman scoffed. Katara turned back to her package, turning it over again to reveal something else new. A wrapped, worn scroll, wooden handles chipped and cracked, sat cradled in soft fur. Gently, Katara lifted it and handed it off to Suki. 

Royal blue eyes so dark that they looked purple in the dim light, gazed down at the aged scroll she gingerly took from the waterbender. 

“What is this, Katara?”

Eyes like the ocean glinted like starlight off of waves. “Take a closer look, Suki.”

Cautiously, she began to unwind the scroll. “The Role of the Honored in their Quest to Train the Avatar Kyo--” Her gasp interrupted the reading. “Katara, how old is this?!”

“I don’t know, but once I came across it, I knew you had to have it.”

There were only a handful of times that the waterbender had seen her sister-in-law with tears in her eyes, and now, in a matter of 24 hours, she had been graced with it twice. 

“Katara, I don’t know what to say.”

“That’s plenty.” Katara paused, stopping her unveiling. A deep breath filled her chest, and the young woman seemed to steel herself, bringing trembling fingers to the back of her neck. While she fiddled behind her, she caught her family’s eyes. “Sokka, Suki. I have been thinking about this for a while, and I’m going to beg you not to try and deny my request. I may be a little drunk, but this decision was mine long before my first drink.”

The blue velvet at her throat fell, loose, the charm sinking awkwardly onto the dip of her throat. With tremulous hands, she pulled it away, cradling the charm reverentially. 

“Katara?” Sokka’s voice was a little over a whisper. “What’s going on?”

“It’s time.” Her voice was quiet, eyes studying the charm in her hands. Sucking in a breath again, she met her brother's eye. “It’s time. Yuka should have her grandmother’s legacy.”

Tears in her brother’s eyes began to brim, and he met her extended hands, with his own. With a thick swallow, she parted her palms over Sokka’s and it fell with a gentle thud into his cradled ones. For a long moment, they stared at each other, brother and sister, a myriad of emotions crossing their faces. Finally, the elder nodded, and Katara seemed to shrink back to size, a small smile pulling at the corner of her lips.

The spell was broken, and Suki reached out to clasp her husband’s hands in her own. Katara settled, as if suddenly lighter. Her blue eyes looked down at the significantly smaller package. She continued to unravel it, but turned her gaze to Zuko. His amber eyes were wide, with an indescribable look in them. Katara smiled, trying to wash away the tears at the corners of her eyes.

“So what do you get the Fire Lord? A ruler of a mighty nation?”

A laugh came easily to his lips, and he wondered if the umeshu had been stronger than he had anticipated.

“I’m not sure there’s anything I could ask for that you could give, Katara.”

A devious smile came next on her face, and she winked. “Oh, I don’t know about that, oh great and powerful One.”

She slowly turned the cloth away again as she spoke. “I told you about the first village I visited.”

He nodded, following her motion. A dark swatch of color emerged from the top of the package. His attention was drawn away as she continued to talk to him. “Did you know that you have a bit of a following?”

“A what?”

“A following. There’s some very sweet little girls madly in love with the Fire Lord.”

He choked on the air. As he stilled, he met her eye again, but found he had nothing to say. Katara spared him after a few moments, but the mirth in her eyes failed to fade. 

“I had the pleasure of meeting one. She had been burned in the blaze, her arm twisted in a scar. But it didn’t stop her from knitting and felting. Do you know what she chose to create as she healed?”

Suddenly, a sinking sensation settled in the pit of his stomach. And while it didn’t disappear as Katara turned the small creation in her hand towards him, it was filled with a sudden warmth. In her hand, a crude but very obviously recognizable effigy of the Fire Lord sat. He felt the blush rise to his cheeks. Hesitatingly, he reached out for it, and Katara met his hand halfway. As he studied it, it’s obvious care sewn into the stitches, he couldn’t prevent the smile that pulled at his lips. 

“She begged me to give that to the Fire Lord for her. Since I was his friend, she said. I wasn’t sure if I’d cross paths with you down here, but I had a feeling it wouldn’t be too long before I would see you.” 

His smile was brilliant, and Katara felt her own cheeks bloom in pink at his gaze. 

“I love it, Katara. Thank you for making sure it got to me.”

* * *

Finally, they all stumbled out of the dining hall, the only one left stable on her feet was Suki, her newborn cradled safely in her arms. Above them, the aurora danced, casting its light over the white scape. Zuko felt the laughter on his lips start to fade, foreign eyes on a mystical landscape pausing him. He was certain he’d never tire of this view. It wasn’t home, but it was entrancing in an unknown way. Beside him, Katara stilled, her eyes on him. Gently, she wrapped a hand around the crook of his elbow. 

His voice was reverent. "I don't think I'll ever get used to this view."

"You never do." 

As he turned to her, she let her hand fall down into his. With a soft tug, he pulled her down the walkway towards her home. They continued in silence for a while. Finally, Zuko broke the silence. 

"So what's next for you?"

She sighed. "I've got a crime syndicate to take down."

Her declaration stopped him. "The Triad? On your own?"

"Well, not completely on my own. I've got Toph."

He raised a brow. "Katara…"

"I'll be safe, Zuko. I think I've figured out a weakness."

"Oh?"

Dark hair waved around her as she nodded vigorously. 

"I was surprised to find out that the Triad is very interconnected with the Spirit World. Unreasonably devout, even."

"Devotion to the mercurial ways of the spirits can be dangerous."

"Yeah. Which is why I dug deeper. Come to find out, they have a Spirit Bridge."

Amber eyes grew wide. "Those are just legends."

She shook her head. "Not this one. Supposedly this woman is one by blood."

"Blood?"

A shrug rippled over her shoulders. "I don't know what exactly that means, but… it's interesting. And it's a weakness. Something I can exploit. If I can get to this Bridge, I can remove their advantage."

Gripping her shoulder, he turned her to face him. "Please be careful."

A soft smile crossed her face, and she leaned in to gently brush a peck to his blemished cheek. Zuko could feel the blush rise, but had no self-control to stop it. Instead, he rubbed the back of his neck. 

"Listen, the Triad has been giving the Fire Nation problems too. I've been trying to get some sort of plan to rout them. I'll do what I can on my end -"

"- And the Painted Lady will do what she can on my side." 

Matching smiles pulled across their faces.

"Please be careful, Katara."

"Of course."

"Would - Would you write me? I know we used to do that, but life -"

" _ Aang _ got in the way." There was a sharp tone to her voice, but she shook her head. "Yes, Zuko, I'd love to write you-- as long as you write back."

"Everytime."

In a sudden motion, she wrapped her arms around his neck and he greedily pulled her in tight. He wanted to close his eyes, to breathe her in, but the greens, blues and purples danced across her hair and clothes and he wanted nothing more than to memorize the moment. Her words were a whisper against his shoulder. 

"I'll see you soon, Zuko."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Soooo the fun is about to really start- this is going to switch a little more to a focus on Katara, as she goes on this adventure of hers.... I love a good action scene. <3
> 
> Just to put this out there- I have not forgotten my ZW 2020 entry. I just needed a small break to revitalize. Modern AUs take a lot out of me, I'm finding. lol. 
> 
> Thanks again for all the love!!


	8. Like the Waves (Back and Forth)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First off: BIG thanks to my long-suffering beta, Lord_Elmo on Tumblr. Thanks, buddy! <3
> 
> Secondly: the obligatory "writing to each other" chapter has arrived. I tried to do something different here and I would love to get you guys' feedback on it? My attempt (and you guys will have to tell me if I accomplished it) was to have breaks in their letters, much like a breakaway in a movie, where the narrator is telling you one thing, but actions are proving a bit different.   
> ie: Narrator: I was totally safe  
> *cut away to where they were totally not safe*  
> Narrator: see. Safe.
> 
> I hope I accomplished it, but if not, it was a fun exercise... XD

_ Zuko, _

_ So I guess I should start now, huh? I mean, it’s only been a few days, but I have to start somewhere. We just skimmed Kyoshi Island, landing in Chin Village. Did I ever tell you about this place? They had planned to boil Aang in hot oil at one point. Now they have this day where they eat raw dough in celebration of … not…. boiling him? I’ll have to tell you the whole story in person one day.  _

_ Anyway. _

_ Chin Village is the first stop on our little crusade, it seems, since Toph already found the Triad here. (That girl has got a nose for sniffing them out). We followed them, but so far it’s been a pretty uneventful trip. I’ll have to wait to write when there’s actually something interesting to write about… _

* * *

Dark. Black. Flash of inky nothingness flies through the air.

A heavy splash, followed by a guttural grunt. The sound of cloth whipping through the air. Followed by footsteps.

Men’s voices echoed down the hall, angry, confused. Moonlight streams through the windows, being caught up in an unnatural fog.

Silence eats up the heavy tread. 

Loud crash. Like a spirit of the damned, a beast straight from the Spirit World descends upon the throng. 

The screams are swallowed up by the night. Red, brown, blue, and water. So much water. The men could drown on the dry ground.

They fall like dead bugs around the phantom. 

One is still conscious, cowering.

“The Painted Lady…” his voice is reverant, trembling. 

“Where are you taking the children?”

* * *

_ … I seriously wish there was more to tell. The little bit of information I was able to snoop out of what Toph found seems to point us to Gaoling. She’s… not exactly pleased about it. I don’t think she’s talked with her folks in a while. I guess we’ll see if she’ll talk to them now.  _

_ Doubt it. _

_ How are the new settlement talks going? I heard you are playing a big role in that. I know I’m not really in any position to help, but if you want a fresh set of eyes, I’ll be happy to help. _

_ Hope this letter finds you safe and as sane as being the Fire Lord is going to keep you. _

_ Katara _

* * *

_ Katara, _

_ I’m surprised that you haven’t been up to mischief. That doesn’t quite sound like you. I guess I’ll have to take your word. _

_ Sounds like Chin Village was going to be a quick stop. It’s a pretty small village, isn’t it? My Earth Kingdom geography is a little rusty.  _

_ Aang boiled in oil- I don’t think I’ve heard that story before.  _

_ I’m surprised to hear that Toph hasn’t seen her parents in a while. Well, maybe not surprised. But definitely sad to hear it. Let me know if there’s anything I can do to smooth any interactions. The Bei Fong’s and I have crossed paths multiple times, and they seem to listen to me. Do you know what direction you’re heading in, once you get to Gaoling? That is a bit of a step up from Chin Village.  _

_ The settlement talks are going about as well as you might expect. Kuei thinks that the islands belong to his kingdom (or at least, his advisors do), and yet my advisors tell me there’s evidence of an old Fire Nation village there. I’m not exactly sure how far to push the issue - it’s a bit of a touchy subject, when my people are involved. _

_ I’ve been trying to do some pushing on my end, about the Triad. I’m sad to report that I’m not getting very far… _

* * *

A ring of steel on steel echoed through the alleyway. The grimace on the strained man’s face was hardly a match for the grotesque twist of a face on the spectre’s mask. At that moment, the opponent was doubtful of the nature of the man before him. 

Earlier, inside the building they had vacated, one of his gang mates had laid a blade’s edge upon the black skin of the spirit before him and drawn red blood. He had sworn that a man’s voice had bit out a muffled curse at the action. But as the blue and white mask leaned in, there was no sign of a man’s presence behind it. No hint of skin, no rush of breath. Just heat, unbearable, aggressive heat. With a twist, the man felt his blade slip through his fingers and clatter down the street. 

A pair of dao blades intersected before his throat. 

When he swallowed heavily, his Adam's apple scraped the blade’s edge painfully. One blade was removed, and with a switch of a grip, it came tumbling back down, it’s butt meeting the side of his skull. He plummeted into the darkness.

Over his body, the Blue Spirit stood tall. Returning his blades to his sheath, he bent down, patting down the pockets of the man unconscious before him. A sound caught his attention, and with a deft hand he withdrew a small piece of parchment from a pocket. Unraveling it, he scanned it before slipping it into a private pocket of his own. 

With one more look down at the man unconscious before him, he hefted him over his shoulder and disappeared into the night.

The next morning, he would be found bound, with a fresh piece of parchment pinned to his front, showing evidence of the small cell of the Triad in the region near the Fire Nation capital, discarded before the Head of the Guard of the city.

* * *

_ … But this does not mean I have given up trying. Anything you need help with, Katara, please, just let me know.  _

_ By the time this reaches you, I’m sure you’ll be in Gaoling. Please be safe. I don’t think I want to explain to Sokka why his baby sister is being held by a group of gangsters.  _

_ Speaking of Sokka, I hear that they’re planning to visit in the next few months. I won’t lie, I’m excited to see them. There’s something empty to this palace without you all here. _

_ Be safe.  _

_ Zuko _

* * *

_ Oh Great and Fiery One,  _

_ Hi. _

_ Sorry, couldn’t help myself.  _

_ Those settlements, Zuko, how old are the remnants? I can understand why you’re nervous to push anything with Kuei, but if they belong to your people… If they’re old remnants, it might just make sense to strike a deal for some archaeological dig but if not- if they’re just from before the war, then why would Kuei want the islands anyway? _

_ I’m sorry to hear about your work on the Triad. I could’ve used the help. As it is, we’re chasing a bit of an enigma. So far the SB (that’s all I’m going to call her, since I don’t want this falling into the wrong hands) has remained elusive. There’s a whisper, but it’s a quiet one. Supposedly, this is the first place she emerged on the scene. According to what I’m finding, she hadn’t intended to be used by them. They just found her… _

* * *

“I do not suffer fools or liars!” A voice like a dark demon split the air, and the man before her cowered in the fog at her feet. 

“I would never lie to a spirit - especially as powerful of a one as you, my Lady!” Lord Bei Fong was shivering.

“Then tell me who she is!”

“I don’t know!” He crooned, his voice wavering, as if on the edge of slipping into unconsciousness. “She was found here, yes! We brought her in, but when they came for her, we knew nothing about them or her!”

“You took her in? You, Bei Fong, are not known for your hospitality to the weak and needy.”

“She was no beggar.”

Anger spurred the spirit closer. Red lips curled in disgust as she growled out her words. “Then who was she?!”

“Someone of rank -- that’s all I know!” He threw himself to his knees, prostrate, arms covering his head. There was no more to be known as to the Spirit Bridge’s identity, but maybe she could identify where she was taken to.

“Where did they take her?”

“North - North and east. I don’t know where exactly.”

The Painted Lady straightened, blue eyes glinting in the light. “These thugs prevail on my patience, pry on my good will. Tell me all there is to know about the Triad.”

* * *

_ … and they used her. Sounds like she’s a prisoner more than an accomplice. But she’s going to have to go on hold for a few days. (hopefully only for that long. Gaoling is taking too long to comb through, and I’ve got a feeling my road leads to Omashu, at least, and I don’t want to be sidetracked for too long.) There’s a village, Linpan, that is currently being plagued, like Yomi was. It’s out in the middle of the plains, where there isn’t much of a lawful presence at all. I wonder over it’s condition, but it’s better not to concern myself too much till I get out there.  _

_ I won’t lie, I already miss Sokka and Suki. And Yuka. I worry that I’m going to miss so much of her life. Maybe when it’s all said and done, I’ll go ahead and let Pakku set me up. Just so I can settle down.  _

_ Who am I kidding? _

_ Please send my love to my family. I’ll see you eventually. Be safe too, Zuko.  _

_ Katara _

* * *

_ Very funny. _

_ You call me that again, and I won’t send you Sokka’s leftover seal jerky.  _

_ You asked about the settlement: It’s from just prior to the war. The only real reason we’re trying to settle it is to search for the little bit that remains of the Fire Nation culture prior to the war. Most of the settlers planned for are historians. The rest are just to keep the historians afloat. I’ve tried explaining this to Kuei, but I’m beginning to wonder if his advisors are only bringing him their own narratives.  _

_ Can I go chase bad guys with you? _

_ This SB… she’s interesting. Her being a prisoner - that changes the dynamics in a lot of ways. And we know it’s a woman? I wish we could figure out her identity. It might help us in the long run.  _

* * *

Pitter patter, pitter patter. 

It was an easy beat to fall into. Feet on ground, as light as the fall of the rain. Wet shale tiles were like ice in the rain. The spirit would have scaled it effortlessly. The man, instead, slipped and cursed, but managed to find his footing again. 

A chorus of yelps and hollers came from the rooftop just vacated. He ignored them and the pain shooting through his arm and shoulder. The Blue Spirit rounded the edge, jumped into an alley, slid down an old open-aired drain, and was gone. 

He had retrieved what he came for. The man behind the mask smiled victoriously.

* * *

_ So you’re headed to Linpan? If you come across anybody named Gansu, Sela or Lee,... I don’t know. Thank them from me? You might want to wait till the end of the visit to say that, though. What’s taking you out there, anyway? Last time I was there, some of the authorities were not the … friendliest. Please be careful, and don’t pick any fights. _

_ Rather, don’t let Toph pick any fights. _

_ When Sokka and Suki arrive, I’ll make sure to pass along your love. Have you been writing them? _

_ Please, Katara, stay safe. This isn’t an easy quest you’ve taken on. I worry that you’re not telling me everything.  _

_ Zuko _

* * *

_ Zuko. _

_ Yes, I made that a sentence.  _

_ If you’re going to self-project here, I want to be abundantly clear that I  _ know  _ you aren’t telling me everything. I’ll start spilling when you do. _

_ It was a bit of insanity when I got here. Seems the Triad had just struck. Mostly snagged kids, from what I could tell, but a few women too. Went looking for that family you spoke of, but the town told me that Gansu didn’t make it back from the war. His oldest kid did, though - Sen Su. Unfortunately, Lee and Sela were a part of the ones taken. _

_ Don’t worry, though. I think you know what happened next… _

* * *

The wheat faded under to black and desiccated under her foot. 

Gold withered to black. Nutmeg and blood. Blue and brown. White billowed around the spectre’s feet, face. 

If there were footsteps, it was only the promise of death behind her. 

The men cowered, some of the more devout falling to their knees, lips trembling out unheard prayers. Close association with the spirits led powerful men to paranoia, a constant gaze over their shoulders.

Funny that, the spirit considered. If one kept his eyes over his shoulder, they were less likely to see the pit before them. 

Red lips curled. 

Villagers stood tall. Avenging spirits did not come for the innocent, they whispered to the children. The Painted Lady was the most righteous of them all.

But what of the Blue Spirit, the children responded. The mothers hushed them. It was improper to speak reverentially of a different spirit in the midst of an avenging one. 

With the slightest whisper of cloth, arms were raised, fingers curled like talons. The fog seemed to still, hovering. 

She rose -

She waited -

She descended.

* * *

_ Lee and Sela are back home, along with their friends. Before we left, I mentioned you. I don’t think you realize how much has changed since you left. They insisted that Toph and I stay with them another night. Lee asked if you still had your dao swords -- Zuko, you should come see them.  _

_ This cell of the Triad isn’t going to be coming back anytime soon. I think Toph and I scared them enough that they’ll be having nightmares for at least a few months. Hopefully. I didn’t come here expecting to find anything out about the SB, but I actually did! She was in Omashu for a long time, even though she’s been moved since. I’m not quite sure where to, but I’ve got a sneaking sensation that I’ll be seeing the walls of Ba Sing Se before this is all over with.  _

_ I’m surprised about the settlement. I can’t help but wonder if Kuei isn’t getting the full story. What can you do about it?  _ Is  _ there anything you can do about it?  _

_ As for being safe: I’m doing my best, Zuko. But I wouldn’t go around being high and mighty - I heard that you fended off another attempt, this time without Mai. I think you might be in more danger than me.  _

_ Don’t let that happen again, unless I’m there, okay? _

_ I miss you, Hotman. And … thank you. Thank you for insisting we write. It’s keeping me sane between the bouts of Toph’s snoring at night.  _

_ I’ll see you soon, Zuko.  _

_ Katara _

* * *

_ Katara,  _

_How did_ ** _you_** _hear about that? I guess I forget that you write to other people too. As for your request, I’ll do my best._

_ I’m glad to hear about Sela, Lee and Sen Su, but I won’t lie that it hurt to hear about Gansu. He was a very wise man, and it’s a loss to everyone who knew him. I’ll… try my best to come see them. That was an awkward time in my life, so I doubt it’ll be easy.  _

_ It’s surprising to hear about the SB in Linpan. I’m guessing that this side quest of yours was to rout the trade routes they have. It’s just odd to find out crucial information from a little town in the middle of nowhere. Please be careful... _

* * *

The dock rolled slowly in the surf. Bamboo mats swayed under foot. Inky darkness filled the gloom. In the black night, a devilish white grin flashed. Curled fangs snarled silently. The boat moored bumped slightly against the rafts, echoing an unearthly scrape across the soft waves. 

The phantasm stole up a plank. 

Silence long reigned in the dark. A sudden smack of skin on metal rang through the empty dock. A crash. A scuffle. A stuttering cry. 

The hatch opened without care, and a woman in practical nightwear stumbled out. In the silver of the moon’s light, the bronze at the apparition’s arms glinted, the white that lined it’s face glowed, the swords in its hands reflected like two slivers of the moon. A line of red ran down the very edge of one sword. 

It loomed over the woman, staring down coolly at her. Her mouth worked without a sound. A single blade point was shoved under her chin. She whimpered. 

“I’ll leave!” she shrieked. 

A blue face shot forward, their stance readying for action. The woman cowered even more. 

“The children, I’ll leave them here. I promise! Just don’t -- don’t hurt me!”

The black pits of emotionless eyes stared a moment longer at the woman. They nodded, pulling back and away. With the grace of many years of practice, the twin swords swirled about him, sliding into the sheath at his back. 

He stepped away, just in time to hear it. 

A loud cry echoed from the hatch. Holding a vase like a club, he brought it down on the Blue Spirit’s head. 

The dark clad figure stumbled, but only for a moment, bringing a small dagger from his boot across the man’s chest. A line of red blossomed there, only a slight wound, but the man staggered away, clutching at it. Something inhuman escaped the wraith and it rounded, something feral in their posture. 

For the first time, the Blue Spirit spoke, it’s voice like wood tumbling over stone. 

“Leave.”

The woman bolted to the side of the injured man, but turned wide gray eyes back at the Spirit. 

“Yes! We will! Forgive him his impudence!” She fell to her face, sobbing. “We’ll leave! We’ll go, and you’ll never see us again!” 

She continued to sob into the night, but the offended spirit she placated had long since disappeared.

* * *

_ Don’t make me have to come find you. _

_ As for Kuei, I wouldn’t be surprised. We all know he has a tendency towards poor decisions in regards to advisors. _

_ I’m trying to secure a time with him in the upcoming months. I need to make a run to Omashu myself. Bumi has got something he needs to show me, he says, but for all I know, it’ll be more gemmanite crystal in a new color.  _

_ Maybe he’s perfected red? _

_ Either way, he’s now going through White Lotus channels. It’s starting to frustrate Piandao, and that’s never a good thing. Who knows? Maybe we’ll cross paths there.  _

_ (I hope we do. I’ve been missing you too.) _

_ Zuko _

* * *

They readied themselves on their Ostrich horses, a small pack strapped to the hind quarters of the beasts. Before them, the sun was beginning to peak over the horizon, sending the flat lands aglow. Katara shuffled before the ostrich horse, trying to steady herself for the rocking ride that always left her backside screaming the next morning. Toph, beside her, was a surprisingly comfortable rider, even if Katara had to lead them both, Toph’s ostrich tied to the back of her saddle. 

“Please be safe on your journeys, Miss Katara.” 

The young woman turned to the older, a smile pulling at her face. Sela handed over two packs - she could tell they were laden with food.

“Sela, please don’t. You three need the food more than Toph and I do.”

A hard look crossed her face, and the older woman’s hand did not falter. “Do not deny my hospitality, Katara.”

The look melted as the waterbender wrapped her up into a hug. “Thank you.” 

From the homestead, two young men walked out into the morning. Sen Su shook his head vigorously. “I’m pretty certain that we should be thanking you. I would have tried, but I doubt I could have gotten them back without your help.”

There hadn’t been much more to say, Katara felt, so with one more press of a hug to the family, she mounted the ostrich horse. 

“Make sure to write, okay?”

All three nodded. As she started to spur her mount, Lee shot forward, a look of concern on his face. 

“Oh! Miss Katara?” She turned a friendly smile to him, and he continued. “When - when you see the Fire Lord again, can you tell him that I’m sorry?”

“Sorry? Lee…,” Katara sighed, dismounting. She placed a hand on the young man’s shoulder. “Lee, Zuko is one of my closest friends --” Pointedly, Katara ignored Toph’s shot of laughter. “ -- so we write each other a lot. If I know Zuko at all, he would never feel that he deserved an apology for your behavior. If anything, he’d be the one apologizing to you.”

“Still,” the young man pressed, “can you tell him for me?”

A wry smile tugged at the corner of her lips. “Yeah, Lee, I can do that.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I'm trying to give myself a buffer of a chapter. Which means that when I write these end notes, I can tease you guys a little with what's coming next....
> 
> Who's ready for some Painted Lady and... friend?... action? ;)


	9. The Spirits: Angered

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I adore this chapter. 
> 
> That is all.

There was a surprising amount of rain spattering down onto the rooftops, dripping from the eaves, and running rivlets of silver down stone facades. Crouched upon one such eave, a dark figure hovered, it’s rice hat and veil more opaque in the steamy air. However, around her figure, the water bent and twisted away, her clothes and coverings remaining perpetually dry. This was done with such minute gestures, it appeared to any observer that she controlled the elements by pure will. 

The shimmering light of a flickering flame in the moonlight cast the source of her intense gaze into heavy relief. He stood outside of the building, a dark pipe in his hands. With every drag upon it, the bowl flared, casting the light up at his face. A distinctive scar glistened in it’s light. Two lines of shiny skin ran from high on his brow, down and across his face. It barely missed his opposing eye, one of the scars catching at the corner of it’s lid, before ending at his jawline. It was hard to see how pink the skin still was in this light, but she knew the marks to be fresh: after all, she had been the one to give them to him. 

He had been the only one not to cower before her presence in Linpan and she kicked herself for not having considered it sooner. There was a question in her eyes, and it plagued her thoughts at that moment. Why had he not cowered? Did he know she was not the spirit she purported herself to be? How would he know, unless he had some connection to the spirit world? Had she finally stumbled upon the Spirit Bridge? 

Katara shook her head doubtfully. Omashu was too small, it’s connection to the spirit world too weak. No, this must just be a hub. Either way, when they entered the city two days ago, they had not expected to come across something this big. Toph had been startled when they had stumbled across, her eyes wide. As it was, she was halfway across the city now, arranging the transportation of the escapees Katara was planning to bring to her that night. Their hidden river of escapees had been part of Katara’s biggest accomplishments over the last six months. 

Abruptly, Zuko entered her mind.

She hadn’t told him in the letters how they had created a small infrastructure of wonderful, secretive people - some of the White Lotus, some of just like minded individuals - to help all those that they had freed. Her biggest fear lay in the potential disruption of the flow; that one of the Triad would get wind, and they’d have to reset all over again. So she had kept silent, never doubting his silence, but rather, the potential of her letters to find their way to the hands of those she wished it to keep secret from. 

A part of her chest ached. It _ always  _ did, when she thought of him. The waterbender had been amazed at how much it had hurt to say goodbye three months ago, and the potential that he may be in the city, that she might see him - it thrilled and scared her all the same. Did he feel the same way? Was there a missing part when she was gone, too? Shaking off the sensation, she spotted the rain that had fallen out of her distracted grip now dripping off the rim of her hat, and now soaking into her robe. She sighed. This wasn’t the time for these distracting thoughts. 

Instead, she reevaluated her entry. A guard who had shown no fear of her prior would not show fear of her now. Which meant she’d have to fight her way in. That was only liable to cause attention - attention she didn’t want. She would have to enter through the back. Looking down at her now lank, saturated dress, she considered. At least there would be plenty of water to bend for her fog.

* * *

The entry was quiet. She had managed to keep the window from creaking as she had pushed back the shutters, but the rice hat had been too wide, and had to be removed before she could enter. After this many months straight of donning her Painted Lady garb, Katara was beginning to consider some alterations. 

With her mind racing with modifications, she sprinted on her soft boots across the catwalk of the warehouse she found herself in. Below, the sounds of unclear words, children’s cries and muffled misery rose to meet her, and suddenly all other considerations disappeared like the morning fog before the rising sun. No matter how many times she had heard it, whenever she found a slave trade, it ate at her heart, and broke her spirit. Taking in the view, there were a few dozen individuals mulling about, majority of them bound, comforting each other, or siphoned off to themselves, staring blankly at the walls. Surrounding them were large crates of supplies - the things Katara had not expected to find here. This was an even bigger hit than she had anticipated. A tight sigh escaped her, misting in the humid autumn air.

Twisting her hands, she felt the water siphon off of her dress and skin, balling before her. Another twist and it was slowly dissolving into a heavy mist and fog. As the process continued, her mind went to a common complaint. Toph was exactly where she needed to be - a stolid protector of the escapees. However, the thought of a fight like this was daunting, and doing it alone, even more so. Her mind drifted to the young man that had accompanied her on a mission not too dissimilar in style to find her mother’s killer. But, she shook her head, she would have just liked Zuko here, for any reason.

Once the water had dissipated enough into the fog, she kept enough before her to provide her with an icy column. Stepping out into it, she drew her persona tight to her like a blanket, her eyes growing hard, her face sharpening into a scowl. With a gesture she used the melting column in the fog to allow her to seemingly drift down like the avenging spirit she was purporting to be. Voices filled with frustration came to her in broken bits, muffled by the mist. The smile that attempted to pull at her lips was squashed, as she forced the anger forward in her mind. 

Angry voices neared her, and with a wave of a pretentious hand, the fog split from directly in front. The moon was bright that night, and she felt the fire of blood in their veins stoke as she breathed. A stilling gasp calmed her from reaching out with the power, and instead she glared down at the men before her. Half of them seemed awed; they stumbled back, their weapons falling awkwardly away from her. But the other half just looked angry. It was time to stoke the fear.

“You prey upon my people and presume upon my patience. You will suffer for your impertinence.” She spoke firmly and strongly across the top of the clouds she had filled the space with. Her voice echoed, she knew. “You  **will** release them, or I will release the blood from your veins like rivers from their dams.” 

She let the fog descend once more as she slipped underneath the line, her frozen column melting below her. The moment her feet touched the ground, she heard the rattle of falling weaponry from nearby, followed directly after by the smack of frightened feet on smooth stone. She was not alone, though. 

A sudden uptempo of a heartbeat turned her - there were some wonderful tricks she had found for the use of bloodbending - and a wave of water flared out, catching her wouldbe assailant directly in the chest. His sword clattered away. 

Behind her, another uptick in the rhythm of life, and she rose an ice wall between them, not even looking, before the sound of an arrow stuck into its surface. She turned blazing eyes at the source. Another arrow was notched, but he moved slowly to round the ice wall. With a gesture and shift of posture, the ice wall shattered into a thousand shards, and turned themselves to the man. Lines of red blossomed across his torso, arms and face, but none more than a distracting scratch. However, they did pin him to a nearby crate. 

The original assailant was back, this time abandoning all subtlety. He roared, a pair of daggers in his hands. She stood silently as she watched him near, only to withdraw more water from the air, and fling it from the floor directly under his forward weighted chin, with the strength of a dozen men’s fists. He was knocked clean off his feet. 

In that moment of distraction, however, she had missed the cue of another attacker’s beat. She felt it only a half second before the blade would make contact with her shoulder. She turned, water icing around her fingertips, prepared to bite back the pain --

\-- that never came.

Instead, a ring of steel echoed through the expanse, and between them sat two dao blades glinting in the misty light. Following through in the motion, she watched as they twisted away the cascading opponent’s blade, and the black clad body leaned in between them. Brass glinted at their arms. They were covered in light, black clothing, and as they moved, she watched a grotesquely twisted blue and white face emerging from the fog. The black pits that served as eyes turned and stared down the woman holding the sword. Easily, she fell back and away giving space. 

The Blue Spirit - she was sure it was him - greedily took the space, disarmed and, with a heavy blow by the back of his hilt, dropped the attacker. As the woman fell to her knees, the Painted Lady heard a clatter behind her, as if weapons were being drawn. Comfortably, she slipped up to him, her back leaning against his. Opponents - members of the Triad - circled them, each baring their own form of weaponry. They seemed to hesitate at the ring, and the Painted Lady turned her head slightly towards her new ally. 

“I’m going to lift the fog around us a little. Are you ready?”

No word escaped him, as she expected. She remembered the tale from Aang. However, he did nod firmly. A mischievous smile pulled at her lips, and with a small wave, the cloud of mist and water peeled back enough to expose the ring of fighters around them. Her eye caught Scars, the guard she had spotted up front among the lineup. Satisfaction poured through her. 

“There’s no one guarding the door.” Her words were only for the man pressed to her back. “Whichever one of us breaks free first needs to round up the hostages and get them out the door.”

His shoulders rolled and she smiled. There was something so eerily familiar about his mannerisms, his motions. For a second, she could almost imagine Zuko at her back, his dao swords the ones glinting in the refracted fire light. No. No Zuko wasn’t here, she was certain. After all, the Blue Spirit was the one to save Aang. At that point, Zuko wasn’t their ally. It had to be the dao swords. Yes, that was it, she was certain.

Any more time spent to try and decipher the man at her back would have to wait, for their opponents were not patient. All at once, they fell in, and both spirits moved like the unearthly beings they purported to be. One with water, the men and women were left sputtering, soaked, iced; the other with sword, bruises and swelling already rising under their skin, or lacerations painting it red. She was the first one to break through. 

Bolting, she ran for the gathered group of frightened women and children. 

“The fog will lead your way- go free!” Her voice echoed menacingly through the room. With a sweeping gesture, the fog split from in front of them, leaving a wall of white mist on either side of the path they were to travel to the door. As she herded the few dozen out the door, she hovered back, waiting for the sounds of a struggle to stop. The last member of the hostages slipped out the door, and she whispered instructions to the older woman before turning back to the fog-heavy room.

A breath, a twist of hands, and a raised arm, and the cloud dispersed immediately, leaving the room heavily humid, but clear. She had cleared out her opponents, yes, but the Blue Spirit had been discovered by more attackers, and now was slowly becoming overwhelmed. His silver swords flashed around him. She moved to join him, only in time to hear a blow land to his ribs. No blood was drawn, but the blow was heavy, and he staggered under its weight. When he regained his footing, his head turned to the attacker. If she could see his eyes, she knew they would be sparking. With a wave, she entered the fray, water and ice at her fingertips. As she cleared away the first line of the attackers, she dug into the pouch at her waist. Withdrawing a handful of small skin pouches, she tossed them to the Blue Spirit, who snatched them from the air with ease. 

“It’s for the crates!”

He nodded and used the clear space she had vacated with her wave, to bolt to them. Both of them bobbed and weaved through the crates with ease and vigor, tossing the pouches haphazardly into the crates. They had reached the back door, and the Blue Spirit stepped up to the door frame. Behind them, a patter of feet slapped upon the stone floor nearing them. As the mysterious man reached the door, he seemed to pause before rearing. A well-placed kick sprung the door open wide, but the Spirit stopped, and offered a polite bow to the Painted Lady. A slight inclination of her head was all she could give him before she bolted from the door, ready for a potential attack. Behind her, her compatriot exited the building in similar fashion. 

There was no threat, and both stopped, turning to look at each other. 

“Follow me.” Her voice was ragged, but the twisted expression bent and nodded. When she bolted down a dark alleyway, she could just make out his feet brushing the ground behind her. Was he another airbender?

She reached the deadend, but reached the deepest corner of it, and pulled her arms around her in a twist. As if from the air, the wet ground around her leeched it’s liquid, and under her it froze and started to rise. She gestured to the Blue Spirit, and he joined her on her platform. He stood near- near enough that she could feel his body heat emanating from him in waves, and she could see the way his chest rose and fell. She shook the thoughts away, trying to focus on being gone by the time the remaining members of the Triad in the warehouse caught up to them.

Then they were on the roof, feet pounding across rooftop gardens, over peaks and valleys, from balcony to balcony. She pulled shy of one long drop, before the transit system’s highways. Beside her the Blue Spirit pulled up slowly beside her. A turn of his mask and he nodded. They were free of their pursuers, evidently. 

Slowly, he sank down to his haunches, and Katara moved to join him at the edge of the rooftop. For a few long, agonizing moments, they sat silently.

Katara was in no mood for silence, and her evening was wearing thin. She still had to rendezvous with the hostages. She had to try to get some sleep. She had to meet up with King Bumi in the morning. She didn’t have time to sit and stew with a supposed spirit and definite vigilante on a random rooftop edge. Instead, she stood slowly. He moved similarly, and they both stood observing each other for the moment. 

“Thank you.” Her voice was certain, much stronger than she felt. “Thank you for helping.” 

She dipped into a Fire Nation bow, her head dipping to him. He returned with a water tribe’s bow. An eyebrow rose.

“Are you the same Blue Spirit that helped my old friend, Aang?” 

A hesitant nod responded to her. 

“Okay. That fits with the whole ‘not talking’ thing.” Her blue eyes glittered in the moonlight. “I don’t know who you are, Aang never said.”

Pausing, the mask tilted to the side curiously, then broad black shoulders shrugged. 

“If - if you wanted, there’s going to be a heist tomorrow night. If you want, you can join me.” Another turn of his mask, and a shift of his body and she found herself being able to read all of his actions like they were spoken words. “If you don’t that’s okay, too. Just… we worked really well together. It’s going to be my last heist before moving on, but it’s going to give me where to go next.”

She paused, but he stepped forward, snagging a hand from her and bringing her knuckles to the mask’s lips. A smile pulled across her lips as the image interposed itself over this Blue Spirit. Instead, she found herself expecting it to be Zuko she saw when he raised his head. 

Katara wasn’t sure why Zuko came so unbidden to her now, but she also wasn’t sure she wanted it to end. Instead of considering her heart, she cleared her throat, raising the walls behind her eyes, her voice strong and steady.

“I’ll see you then, Blue Spirit.”

With a nod, he was off, and easily fell into the shadows of the night.

Heaving a sigh, she turned back to the transit system. She still had to rendezvous with the hostages and then with Toph. It was going to be a long night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Enjoy the next chapter's snippet:
> 
> The water is cold, but that’s what he’s hoping for. The bracing chill against his skin tries to chase away the exhaustion of the night prior. Before him, a small vanity table, simple and understated, holds a palm-sized metal mirror and a red-tinted glass bowl. The Fire Lord is readily casting the almost-icy water against his face, attempting to wash away the remnants of the nocturnal Blue Spirit. When he was young, these nights were simpler affairs to recover from. He wasn’t 16 anymore.
> 
> Zuko’s body liked to remind him of that, from time to time.
> 
> He couldn’t stop the sigh that escaped his lips, as he pulled at the dark circles under his eyes. It was the long travel, he would claim. It was a reasonable excuse, and he was certain that Bumi would have other things to discuss than his apparent exhaustion. After all, the Fire Lord was no longer a banished prince, and travel of this nature wasn’t common over the past five years, one could assume. A wry smile pulled at his lips. 
> 
> A not so small part of him revelled in the sight of a tent around him, a bed roll under him, and a fire crackling outside the entrance. Long days in the palace had grown weary - he missed the freedom of the world under foot, despite the trial-some methods he had traversed it in his youth. Little did his father know that sending Zuko out at such a young age would have instilled a feeling of restlessness in the young man. 
> 
> He was broken from his reverie by a hesitant voice outside of his tent. 
> 
> "My Lord? The palanquin is ready for you."


	10. Insomnia's Price

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We're trying to get there folks! Ch. 11 is written and beta'd, thanks again to my wonderful beta @lord-elmo on Tumblr- ( he also beta'd this chapter for me... Thanks buddy!!)
> 
> Things are moving- but this listed slow burn, so please give Katara the chance to breathe on her own since we're actually only looking at about 6-8 months post-breakup with Aang. 
> 
> Sorry for the delay, and I hope this chapter makes up for it!!

The water is cold, but that’s what he’s hoping for. The bracing chill against his skin tries to chase away the exhaustion of the night prior. Before him, a small vanity table, simple and understated, holds a palm-sized metal mirror and a red-tinted glass bowl. The Fire Lord is readily casting the almost-icy water against his face, attempting to wash away the remnants of the nocturnal Blue Spirit. When he was young, these nights were simpler affairs to recover from. He wasn’t 16 anymore.

Zuko’s body liked to remind him of that, from time to time.

He couldn’t stop the sigh that escaped his lips, as he pulled at the dark circles under his eyes. It was the long travel, he would claim. It was a reasonable excuse, and he was certain that Bumi would have other things to discuss than his apparent exhaustion. After all, the Fire Lord was no longer a banished prince, and travel of this nature wasn’t common over the past five years, one could assume. A wry smile pulled at his lips. 

A not so small part of him revelled in the sight of a tent around him, a bed roll under him, and a fire crackling outside the entrance. Long days in the palace had grown weary - he missed the freedom of the world under foot, despite the trial-some methods he had traversed it in his youth. Little did his father know that sending Zuko out at such a young age would have instilled a feeling of restlessness in the young man. 

He was broken from his reverie by a hesitant voice outside of his tent. 

"My Lord? The palanquin is ready for you."

The sigh at his lips escaped more like a hiss. He had managed to avoid the use of the palanquin the whole ride in, instead riding in the carriage supplied. It was a luxury he still didn't want, but riding in on ostrich-horse back would have been frowned upon. But as they neared the city, the handful of advisors with him insisted upon his usage of the palanquin upon arrival into the city. 

_Tradition_ , one had croaked. 

_Dignity_ , another had nodded.

_Decorum_ , the last had agreed. 

_Protection_ , the small voice in the back of his mind whispered. 

Protection from any who might wish to do the young Fire Lord harm. After all, it's much more difficult to anticipate the swell of a man-borne palanquin, with it's shifts in gait, or to locate the target through swaying curtains. He would bite his tongue and swallow his argument this time. There had to be another way, he was certain, but now was not the time to bring change. Not yet, at least. Instead, he thanked the servant at the entrance of his tent. 

Moving swiftly, he gathered what he felt most important - a bag of somewhat dubious wares and gear, strapping his dao swords now to a low dual hilt at his lower back - and stepped out into the daylight. 

Excitement began to crawl up his spine. Even the sight of the palanquin couldn't quell it. After all, today he would enter Omashu (properly). Today he would see Katara as Fire Lord Zuko. And tonight?

Tonight, he would scour the rooftops with her as the Blue Spirit. 

* * *

It was sharp, slushy, and thoroughly soaking through her hair and mattress, sputtering out of her mouth. The gasp that accompanied the shock, pulled the icy water down into her lungs, rocketing her off her pillow and straight into a coughing jag. Eyes like the polar tundras scour the room, even as she pulled the water from her lungs, hair, and surrounding fabrics.

As soon as her lungs stopped rebelling, she filled them with air to bellow after the blind woman trotting down the hall.

“TOPH!”

Her voice was laced with an unrecognizable tune that sounded smug. “Bumi’s waiting, Katara. And I bet someone else is too...:”

Toph’s words drag off on the last word, like a child holding a toy above their sister’s head. Katara had plenty of experience with that sensation and she glowered after the long absent woman. She was surprised then, when instead of feeling worn and fatigued, there was a sense of lightness in her bones. 

With unexpected ease, she pulled herself from the bed, and straight to her nearby vanity. 

A flick of her wrist and the water that had been used to rouse her, rose from its place in the nearby bowl, twisting to gently soothe her hair. Just enough to smooth the flyaways, she returned to the bowl and took in her appearance. The puffiness under her eyes was heavy, but a quick brush of ice upon them would calm the worst of it. Outside of her exhaustion, she was proud to see the lines that tried to crease between her brow for the past five years had begun to smooth over. Instead, there was a slight crinkle at the edge of her eyes, the corner of her lips. She was happy. Fulfilled. It made her eyes sparkle a little more, her smiles bigger, her laughs deeper.

She was helping where people needed help. She hadn’t turned away.

A slightly dirty ditty that Toph had taught her early on their trip bubbled up, humming behind her lips as she pulled and combed and twisted her hair this way and that. Finally settled in a half-up style, but plaited in the Earth Kingdom manner, she set about preparing the rest of her garb. Her hands moved through the motions, but her mind was much further away.

When she had arrived back at the little two bedroom apartment she and Toph leased, she was bone weary, and Toph had still been out, sorting their escapees into the proper channels. Katara had attempted to stay awake for her friend, but the fight had both exhausted and thrilled her. Coming off of both heavy emotions, she had spent her last bit of energy to clean away the red paint and store her Painted Lady garb before collapsing on the bed in a huff. 

Now as she continued to dress for the day, her mind wandered back to the events of the night prior. 

She was proud of that cell being cleansed of their “merchandise”, but she knew it was hardly the end. Remove the product and they would just go and “refill” the order. To truly clean out the cell, she knew, they would have to take care of the men themselves. That was her goal for the next night. And with the Blue Spirit’s help, it would definitely go faster.

The Blue Spirit.

Her hands faltered at the sash she was steadily knotting into an intricate pattern. With a swallow, she set her jaw and attempted to retie the knots.

There was something to the mysterious man. And he was definitely a man. As surely as she knew she held no divine right to her role as the Painted Lady, he was no unearthly spectre. And the fact that she knew that, caused a small thrill through her. Katara berated herself at the sensation - it was just the novelty of the man, the unknowns that intrigued her. But it was the sameness that stilled her. There were times in his actions that she could see the shadows of someone else in his swing, or the ready stance of his feet. 

If she looked out of the corner of her eye, she would turn, expecting to see Zuko there. 

She had already dismissed this idea forthright the night prior. The timing was wrong. The person was wrong. And as much as the thought of fighting beside Zuko thrilled her, she knew it had to be impossible. 

But the line of her thought brought her to another, more pleasant, albeit just as confusing path.

Zuko.

  
  
He had written, telling her of the days he had expected to arrive in Omashu, hopeful that their paths might overlap again. They would, but only for two days, she found, if the weather was permitting for his safe passage. There had been no guarantee of his arrival on that day, but no matter how hard she attempted to, the hope had fluttered in her chest. 

This was the day that King Bumi had requested their presence, once he had heard of the lady’s arrival. Katara’s hope had been to slip in and out of the city without catching the eye of the odd older man, but somewhere along the line, they had been outed. A small part of her wondered if the man she was eagerly hoping to see had been the culprit. 

The thought of Zuko sent the curiosity about the mystery from the rooftops fleeing, and instead a lightness once more filled her bones, her veins. Stopping before the full length mirror at the corner of her room, she took in her appearance again. The soft greens associated with the Earth Kingdom rested against her skin, a pale cream and yellow swirling soft patterns at the bordered lines. At her throat and her waist, splashes of blue painted her origin with pride against the greens, almost reminiscent of a tree lined horizon reaching up to touch the sky. 

She nodded once, as prepared as she would ever be, and turned to go find Toph, only to jump at the sound of a small yelp, immediately proceeded by an aftershock that rumbled the entire building. A sigh escaped her, the earthbender’s name already on her lips.

* * *

If Katara didn’t know any better, she would have thought that the sigh that started in the little room in the lower parts of Omashu was the same one that had lasted her all the way to her audience with King Bumi.

“No, sire,” there it was, that sigh, “I’m certain we don’t have time to test our mettle again.”

“Oh, that’s a shame!” 

She was surprised to see that his line of sight was directed at Toph. A spark was in the young woman’s misty eyes, and Katara tapped her shoulder soothingly. There was a set to the younger woman’s shoulders that said if Bumi had pushed it, she would be happy to waste the time. The hand and insistent finger at her shoulder tried to help suppress the eager desire from Toph to push herself at each opportunity, whether or not it was proper. Instead, Katara spoke once more.

“I’m sure you have many things to attend to, my sire.”

His wizened hands clutched to each other frantically, but the giddy smile on his face belied a knowledgeable and discerning gaze. 

“Indeed, I do! But you would do me great honor to help an old man with the next thing on his agenda.”

This time, Katara managed to catch the sigh before it escaped. Instead, she threw a brilliant smile up at him. 

“It would be our pleasure.”

“Oh good. Well, then, while we wait, -”

_Wait?_ Katara felt her day slipping through her fingers like sand.

“- maybe you could be so kind as to tell me what brought you to my fair city?”

They had been travelling under the guise of offering healing and rebuilding to the smaller cities after the war; something they were actively doing from village to village. But the true mission, the Triad and all its intricacies, they were keeping to themselves. After all, the information Ty Lee had provided her had some pretty certain overtones about infiltration into higher government roles. And while Zuko, she knew, would be closed mouth about her less than above reproach methods, she wasn’t quite as certain with the other rulers. So instead, she began her diatribe about the smaller outlying villages, and that they had taken some rest in Omashu before continuing on their way north. She had just begun to explain some of the work they had done - of course, Bumi had pressed for more information - when an attendant hurried in and bowed before the king. 

“My liege, the delegation you were awaiting has arrived.”

Standing at his full, bowed height, the crooked king clapped his hands giddily again. 

“Superb! Send them in at once!” He turned to one of his guards. “Quick, go fetch Flopsie! He must meet him immediately.”

A feeling of pity swelled in her for the poor soul who would have to be greeted by Flopsie. She wasn’t allowed to dwell on that thought for long, however, and the King of Omashu turned once more to her. 

“Please, my dear, continue. You were saying about the route you were planning to take north?”

“Yes, our next step is to head to Gaipan Village. We had heard it was still trying to recover from an attack by extremists tha--”

Katara’s words were cut off as the attendant returned, and attempted to announce the new arrival. This, unfortunately coincided with the arrival of Flopsie, which was met with coos and growls, the former from the king, the latter from the very oversized goat gorilla. She could barely make out the sound of the attendant’s voice, but the actual words he spoke were lost in the cacophony of sound. A chuckle escaped her lips, and she tried to mask it with a hand to her lips, as the young man attempting to do his job, looked flustered at his lord, and heaved a deep sigh. The action pulled all of his joints loose, and he sagged. Sucking in a deep breath, he turned to the guards, and gestured to them. 

With one accord, the (amazingly) stoic guards opened the large doors behind them. Toph spat out a laugh-- at what, Katara wasn’t sure-- but her attention was drawn back to the old king, who now sat cradled in the massive arms of Flopsie. Katara found herself unable to look away, even as Bumi greeted the new arrival. She was certain she had come to expect everything from the crazy old man, but this was enough to leave her bewildered.   
  
  


* * *

When Zuko had arrived at the palace and stepped out of the palanquin, he steeled himself for the insanity that was always present in King Bumi’s court.

He was certain, though, that nothing could have prepared him for the sight that the doors opened up on.

Bumi was cradled in a large gorilla goat’s arms like a small child, cooing up at him and scratching under his chin. He was flanked by two very tired looking guards.

To the left, Toph stood facing him, her fists on her hips, a wide, knowing smile on her lips. 

Beside her, slack-jawed and brow furrowed, stood Katara, completely unaware of his presence. Her eyes were locked on the same odd caricature that he had first taken in when the doors had opened. There was a distinct pleasure, he found, in being able to observe the waterbender without her noticing. It wasn’t often he was able to, her keen eyes easily intercepting his gaze. But in the few moments like these, he soaked up what little he could get. 

Unfortunately, his observation of her was cut short by the matter at hand: Bumi. 

“Fire Lord! Welcome!” He waved giddily at the young man, even as Zuko dipped with a respectful bow. 

Movement to his side flicked his gaze towards it. Katara had started, and her head snapped towards him, her hair flaring out like a fan behind the motion. The bewilderment on her face had been washed away, and Zuko was pleased to find that a genuine smile pulled at her lips. He sent a small smirk her way before addressing the king.

“It’s my honor, King Bumi, to accept your request. How may I be of assistance to you?”

“Wonderful!” The older man jumped free of his pet and smiled at the Fire Lord. “Have you heard that I’m working on perfecting other colors of Jennamite?"

Amber eyes flicked to Katara, who was trying to hide a bemused smile. He offered a placating one towards the older man. 

"Yes, I believe you had mentioned red?"

"Yes! Come let me show you my progress…"

And so the morning had been filled. Between the long dissertations on the cross-coloring of gemmanite and it's fail rate, they were able to ascertain that Bumi's scholars had unearthed some information that the Fire Lord might be interested in learning about.

"... so I had them pull the scrolls." Bumi was speaking absently as he gestured towards the towering crystals before them. "There have only been a handful of Spirit Bridges over the years."

Zuko's head snapped towards the older man, a look of shock on his face. Beside him, he felt Katara stiffen. They had only been half-heartedly listening but his words brought them rushing back.

"I- I'm sorry, what did you say?" Katara's voice was hesitant. 

A devilish grin split the older man's face. He leaned in conspiratorially, his voice a rasp of a whisper. 

"Oh, come on now. What do you think we old men spend our time doing now? There's no war, and we got bored." A cackle escaped him. "When one hears about a Painted Lady routing the Triad's supply route, and a Fire Lord pressing law into effect with very specific wording, it's interesting to connect the dots."

Toph had found a Jennamite stalagmite to lean against drowsily, but at his words she barked out a laugh. She pulled herself off her perch and sauntered over to the group now standing closely together. 

"Impressive for a bunch of old farts."

"Miss Beifong, you should know by now that old men are superb at being gossips."

Katara cut through the banter. She was slightly unsettled that he was aware of her alter ego, but was hopeful that the older man would keep her secret. "You said something about the Spirit Bridge? What do you know? Do you know who they are?"

"Unfortunately, no. But there is some interesting reading that I have pulled out for you three in one of my private studies." His eyes glittered in the cave light. "If you'd like, I'll be more than happy to have one of the guards escort you there presently."

When the two agreed profusely, King Bumi gestured towards one of the guards. The three bowed deeply in return, before turning to leave. 

"Oh!" The king's voice stopped them, and they turned towards him. "Make sure to take some with you!"

He reached forward, wrapping his arms tightly around a gemmanite stalagmite, the thickness of a mature tree's trunk, and twisted. A fracture appeared at it's base before breaking free. Still in a bear hug, he shuffled over and placed it before them with a solid thud. A wild shock of hair followed by wilder eyes rounded the width. 

"Studying can sure make one hungry!"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So somewhere between the podcast and the serial reading and the different events, I'll be writing more. I'm ready to get Perfect *moving*, and NiNE (Normal is Not Enough) is completely plotted out, so all that's left is for it to be actually written!! XD
> 
> Snippet for next Chapter:  
> ***  
> The private study had turned out to be a large earthen walled room, with towering shelves filled with old scrolls and codices. An expansive wooden table sat nestled among the overreaching shelves, and everything was awash in an odd green glow, emanating from the topaz colored crystals that speckled the room. The scent of old parchment mingled with dust mites as it floated and danced in the air.
> 
> They had been escorted to the study almost immediately after the discussion with King Bumi. Toph had decided to go - after all she wasn’t going to be much help reading old papers. So this had left Zuko and Katara to their own devices. 
> 
> Soon, the small pile of literature that had been left on the table was divided and quickly added to. A comfortable silence laid over them as they dug through the dusty parchment.


	11. Catacombs v.2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, now that the podcast is currently on hiatus, expect a lot more updates during this month and a half across all of my WIPs. 
> 
> Thank you all who have stuck through my in and out update schedules. I really appreciate all the love. <3
> 
> Special love to my beta: Lord_Elmo22. Couldn't do this without you, buddy.

The private study had turned out to be a large earthen walled room, with towering shelves filled with old scrolls and codices. An expansive wooden table sat nestled among the overreaching shelves, and everything was awash in an odd green glow, emanating from the topaz colored crystals that speckled the room. The scent of old parchment mingled with dust mites as it floated and danced in the air.

They had been escorted to the study almost immediately after the discussion with King Bumi. Toph had decided to go - after all she wasn’t going to be much help reading old papers. So this had left Zuko and Katara to their own devices. 

Soon, the small pile of literature that had been left on the table was divided and quickly added to. A comfortable silence laid over them as they dug through the dusty parchment.

_...The Spirit Bridge is often chosen by a powerful spirit; like Tui, Agni, or Kuli, as a familiar. One that could often bring the words of the Spirits to the common people, regularly traversing the plains of reality and the spirit world itself...  _

  
“... ing to ask, Katara.” His voice pulled her from her scroll, and she blinked in the hazy light. “What are you doing with those that you’re breaking out?” 

Her eyes light up, and she leans in conspiratorially. 

“I didn’t want to write about it - I was worried about somebody intercepting our letters. Zuko,” the smile on her face grew, “we managed to make friends with the right people. We have an underground network that is reconnecting people with their loved ones. It’s all very secret, since we don’t want the Triad to even get a hint of it.”

Golden eyes grew wide in the dark. “Wow, Katara, that’s amazing!”

“It’s one of the things I’m most proud of. I’ve been wanting to tell you about it for a while.”

“I could understand why. It was definitely not worth the risk…” The gentle smile on his face was laced with pride. Comfortably, they both fell back into silence. 

Katara returned to the page.

_...Occasionally, however, one may arise from circumstance and blood. For instance, if one were to come from a bloodline directly connected with the spirits (this is most common in the ancestry of the Avatar, with some notable exceptions, see Agni and the Water Maiden, in volume one), and were to find themselves in a circumstance that required the assistance of the spirits, this line may be allowed to call upon them. In this instance, these Spirit Bridges are required to take on the roll as a transition between worlds, as payment for the assistance provided… _

She felt her mind start to drift. The reminder of Agni brought her back to Zuko across from her, and she found herself too tired to try and reign in her thoughts. Instead she stared him down across from her. 

He was at the table directly across from her, one arm supporting his head above the document he was determinedly trying to read. Blinking rapidly, he seemed to shift, trying to get comfortable. His hand returned to his head again, but this time, he used it to cover over his left eye, resting it against the marred skin. 

Abstractly, she wondered at the motion. When she had first seen the scar, she had been curious to know if he could see out of that eye, but his fighting skills had rapidly dismissed any notions of the eye impeding his skill. And once they had been in the position that discussion about it might have been possible, she no longer considered it. Now, though, as they sat in dim light, she started to reconsider his actions under the lens of this potential knowledge. 

As she considered, moments were brought to mind: small turns in how he stood, how he would position himself in a fight, the way he would cock his head towards a speaker, or when he would start at someone’s arrival. 

He could see and hear on that side, but…

“Zuko?” Her voice was hesitant. She was treading into some of the deeper waters, the parts that had been left unsettled for a long while. If he didn’t answer her, she wouldn’t press to ask again.

“Hm?”

His eyes met hers across the table. 

“You- you don’t have to answer this, but I just was noticing something.” His brow rose in response, and she swallowed before continuing. “Your left side; is it harder to see or hear over there?”

Sitting back, he let the parchment he had been studying fall from his hands. Palms down, they rested loosely on the table. 

“To a degree, yes.” His voice was soft, as he took her in. She tried to school her expressions. There were things, so many things, that she didn’t know about him, and the small pieces he offered were often laced with pain. So she tread lightly, as cautiously as she could. 

“How bad is it?” 

“It’s worse when I’m tired. Things tend to blur worse, and bright light becomes piercing. The hearing- well, it’s always muffled over there. Tired or not.”

He lists his grievances casually, as if explaining a small stomach upset. There’s something else lacing his words, she knows, but his eyes are studying her in the green light. In that moment, she’s brought back the handful of years, to another green lit space. Maybe that is what is bringing up these questions, she wonders. And not for the first time, she has to bite back the question that always arose when the subject of his scar came into discussion. 

“Why do you ask?”

She shrugged, trying to play off the reveal with as much emotion as he did, despite the cold pit that filled her stomach. All this pain from an accident -- something so innocuous. 

“I’ve always wondered. Just never really thought to ask. You do a really good job of compensating for its limitations.”

The set to his shoulders is tight, and she knew that she had stirred something up in him, some old demon, and her lips turned down slightly. None of his pain laced his words, she found, and she was once more struck by his control. 

“When your life depends on not seeming weak, it’s either compensate or be thrown to the wolves.”

Suddenly, Katara has been brought back to the memory of a fading firelight and a young man’s sordid tale of an out-of-turn word and the smell of flesh turned to ash. It had only been the two of them, all the rest asleep, while they had finished cleaning up. The fire had burned hot- hotter than the usual flame, eating up the fuel like a ravenous beast as he spoke, his eyes never leaving the flickering flames until all that was left was the smoldering embers. She remembered the pain etched in his expression. He had come to terms with its existence, had come to understand that it was undeserved. But the pain, the question of why, still had hovered over him like a spectre. 

A slight shudder ran through the man before her now, the teenager dissolving from her mind’s eye. She shook away the memory, trying to reorient herself in the present. Instead, she took in the slight downturn to his lips. 

“Does it hurt?”

His brow furrowed, but he shrugged. 

“Sometimes it aches when I don’t get enough sleep, or I’m really stressed.”

“So all the time?” 

His downturn quickly reversed, before nodding his assent. 

“Would you be willing to let me work on it? I might be able to relieve some of that.”

“You can?”

“It’s scar tissue. I won’t be able to make the scar go away--” if they both paused, they could almost hear the echoes of so many years prior. “--but I can make the tissue beneath the skin lie straighter, hopefully reducing some of the strain on the surrounding area.”

His smirk grew into a smile. 

“You really have learned a lot, haven’t you?”

“The first town we visited helped me learn a lot about… scars.” The little girl with the angry burn on her hands danced behind her eyes for a moment. Katara sucked in a breath, willing away the pain of the memory. “So? What do you think?”

He shrugged. “Sure.”

With a smile, she pulled water from the nearby pitcher and moved to stand before him. With gentle fingers, she traced the line of his scar, as the water began to glow a comforting blue. It was a soothing touch, and he found his eyes closing under her purview, even as a sudden sensation of warmth began to grow under his skin. A wry smirk tugged at his lips.

“You going to make me look prettier?”

She scoffed, and her empty hand clapped against his shoulder playfully. “You’re too pretty as it is, Zuko. If I make you any prettier, your guards will have to fight off the ladies for you.”

A hum played behind his lips, and he was surprised to feel fullness returning under her fingers on his forehead. For a moment, he lost the train of thought before swallowing down the dawning sensation. He attempted to shrug casually.

“They’d have no luck with me, I’m afraid.”

“Oh?” 

Was there a squeak in her voice? Zuko was certain he’d never heard her squeak before. His unencumbered eye peaked open. Her brow was furrowed with focused energy, her guarded expression passive while healing, but there was color high on her cheeks. He watched her swallow hard before continuing. 

“And why is that?”

“Already got my heart set on one.”

Did her fingers tremble slightly? WIth her seeming nervousness, he felt his own start to spike. What was he doing? Treading into waters recently just settling? This wasn’t the time, he was certain, for this sort of wanton brazoness. But then her fingers stilled and moved to his cheek, and he gasped. For the first time in nearly a decade, he could  _ feel  _ her fingers there. Not the press of weight, but the sensation of touch. He felt the tears brim in his eyes unwillingly, and he clutched at her water-encased hand. 

“Zuko? Are you okay?”

“Don’t- don’t move.” The words escaped him in a rasp. She obeyed his request, a worried expression on her face. Abstractly, he recognized the water in her hands had fallen, wetting a large section of his shoulder.

“What’s wrong?”

“Absolutely nothing. That’s just it.”

“What do you--”

“I-I can feel,” his hand gripped tighter, and he swallowed harshly, “ I can feel your fingers on my cheek, Katara.” His eyes met hers again, his breath still coming fast. 

It took a moment for the thought to congeal in her mind, but when it did, her lips formed a silent “O”, and she kneeled before him, her fingers still on his cheek. They slowly began to brush along the edge of his scar and his breath caught in his throat. She stopped. 

“So you weren’t able to feel anything there?”

“I could feel pressure, but nothing more.”

“And now?”

“Now I can feel your fingers. I can tell they’re soft on my cheek. I can feel the callous on the outside of your thumb.” Golden eyes peered down at her in awe. “Katara, what did you do?”

Her eyes were wide and brimming. Twisting her hand in his grip, she cupped his jawline, running her thumb gently across the swell of his scarred cheek. 

“Oh  _ Zuko _ .” 

His hand clutched at hers again and he held her still as he turned his lips into her palm, placing a soft kiss to her life line. A single tear managed to escape and wind down the lines of his face. With her free hand, Katara brushed it away. 

From between her fingers, he took her in, and the concern of mere moments before felt like nothing more than echoes of whispers. 

“Thank you, Katara.”

Her free hand came to rest on the one at his knee. Pulling it to her, she gingerly placed a kiss to his knuckles. 

A knock at the door startled them, but neither seemed to pull apart from each other, almost as if a force of gravity was holding them in each other’s orbit. 

The knock came again, and Zuko let out a sigh, gingerly removing her hand from his face. 

Katara took the motion as a cue and withdrew her hands, standing. 

“Enter.” Zuko’s voice took on a tone of command. 

A single guard entered, his face hesitantly swinging between his Firelord and the healer. “My lord, there’s a servant here who’d like to bring you in some lunch?”

“Send them in.”

With a slight bow, the guard returned with the kitchen servant in tow, and a large dish of food was placed on the table between the two. As soon as the door clicked shut behind them, the remaining two inhabitants of the room gazed into the basket. Some recognizable food was spattered between strange crystals and oddly colored fruit. Zuko raised a single brow over the bowl, meeting Katara’s eye. Her face twisted playfully.

“So, Zuko, have you ever been to Omashu before?”

“No, this is my first time.”

“Oh, good! That means you haven’t had Mushi's Noodles!"

"... Mushi's?"

"Yes! It's a small noodle house just around the corner! Toph won't eat noodles and so I haven't had Mushi's in years!"

"Toph won't eat noodles?"

"She can't 'see' them, she says. Has to chase them around her bowl."

A snort escaped him, but he turned a quizzical look to her. "So how would you go about smuggling a Firelord out to this Mushi's? Unless you're planning on having an entourage of guards and councilmen following us?"

Her jaw shifted for a moment, her lips pursed. Suddenly a finger shot up in attention. 

"I've got it- we just need a cloak. Are you good at sounding sick?"

"This sounds like a Sokka plan."

Her laugh danced about the green lit room, but she shrugged. 

“He’d be proud!”

Standing to join her, a proffered arm was accepted, and he smiled down at her as they exited the study. 

On the table, the scroll read, then discarded, sat unheeded.

_...Unfortunately, this has led to some dire consequences. For a transition between the spirits and mortal man can be abused from either side, as men are as known as the spirits to manipulate these Bridges in ways that are fully unfit for their duties. Some instances of this may be found in The Legend of Kuli and the Avatar, The Dismissal of Koh, and Agrapah and the Many... _

* * *

The cloak was pulled tight over his head, but it did nothing to hide the blue and white mask grinning sightlessly out over the world. Behind it, no amount of suppression could contain the smirk that stayed locked on his lips. Nervous energy kept his fingers drumming on his bent knee, still waiting for her arrival.

“Sorry I’m late. Got caught up.”

There was something in the lilt of her voice that pulled his smirk into a grin. Turning to her, he stood, tilting his head to the side as if asking.

She responded without prompt, a searching expression on her face, as if trying to pierce the mask and see the man underneath.

“It was for a very good reason.”

The fresh memory of warm noodles, easy laughs and simple anonymity flashed behind his eyes, and his smile grew. Very good reason, indeed. He opened his mouth to agree, wanting nothing more than to add to the levity of the moment—

“But!” Her voice puffed out in the cooling air, a cloud of steam escaping her lips. “We have things to get done tonight.”

Crouching beside him, the Painted Lady pointed down at a nearby warehouse.

“That’s the next target, and hopefully the last one in Omashu.”

He nodded, before dropping down beside her. His confession would have to wait.

* * *

Rustling through the pages in the desk, blue eyes scanned the highlights, looking for a clue as to her next destination. A loud crash outside the door spurred her on faster. With a guttural cry, the door to the office Katara was ransacking flung open, and a man holding aloft a katana raced toward her, his eyes wild. Her fingers twitched, starting to pull the water from the air, only to watch a dao blade wrap harmlessly around his middle and drag him out of the room. After a moment, a blue and white mask peeked around the corner of the doorframe and tilted his head, as if to say sorry. 

A smile pulled at her lips and she shrugged. “It happens.”

One moment more of shuffling and a transport doc came to the surface of the pile. 

_ Assets: Intelligence and labor  _ (read: inventors and slaves)

_ Payment: Exchange from the Bridge _ (read: the Spirit Bridge was offering some form of exchange - willingly or not, Katara was still trying to ascertain.)

_ Destination: Ba Sing Se _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> YEs yes yes, I know... KISS ALREADY.
> 
> ...Don't worry it's coming soon. As I told my amazing beta: Feelings will be felt in Ba Sing Se.


	12. Unexpected Appearances

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Soooo... those who don’t follow me on Tumblr didn’t see the announcement that I took a small break from posting, but I think I’m finally starting to feel somewhat back on level. And I now have three more chapters in the hopper, waiting to be published.... so it’s time to start sharing them, because I’m writing the stuff I’ve been the most excited for since I started plotting out this story. Expect things to start getting interesting, starting next chapter. ;) 
> 
> Thank you all for your sweet words and kudos. It means the world. 
> 
> And a special thanks to my beta, lord_elmo22...

A steady patter of rain on clay roof tiles lulled her into a trancelike state as blue eyes studied the almost empty alleyway. Across the way, a few stragglers were cast out of a local tavern. Boisterous and crass, they pulled her attention away for a moment, only for her to ignore them. Her target was a seemingly empty storefront. It had been a bustle of activity a few hours prior, while the sun was up and the chill was crisp instead of humid. 

In the dark of night, it was devoid of activity, of life, if her observation was anything to go by. Still, a feeling of unease worked its way up her spine. She dismissed it as loneliness. 

Katara had said goodbye to Zuko unhappily only two days after his arrival. He had been solicitous about it, even if he had hinted that he would be happy to keep her company for a few more days.The temptation had been great, but so had the draw of the Spirit Bridge. It was abundantly clear that she was leaving begrudgingly, especially as she suggested that he visit the Earth King soon. His hopeful ‘maybe’ had been enough to give her strength to stay the course. After all, this  _ thing _ , this-- whatever it was-- it couldn’t bloom yet. 

If it could bloom at all--

If she was honest with herself, something she tried regularly to be since her breakup with Aang, there was a very real chance that even if they both hovered at the edge of this precipice, they would not be able to take the plunge. After all, what place does a water tribe peasant have in a Fire Nation court? 

The Painted Lady had said goodbye to the Blue Spirit as soon as she knew that Ba Sing Se held her next target. She informed him where she was headed, fully expecting him not to join her. However, she would be lying if she said she didn’t sit a little longer on that rooftop than she needed, or that she didn’t feel a pang of sorrow when he didn’t arrive. 

But there was nothing more to wait for and no more time to be wasted. 

Standing to her full height, she used the rain around her to solidify under her feet and across the rooftops, she traversed. After that point, it was an easy job to slip inside. 

The spirit moved like a wraith in the shadows, darting from one to the next. But when a loud clatter followed by hushed curses echoed down the hall, she stopped. When nothing new followed it, she moved slowly forward, eyes scanning the silhouettes for human-like shapes. 

As she rounded the corner to the room she had been targeting, she spotted them. A small oil lantern flickered in a darkening hood, it’s light cast only down. A small, lithe figure was silhouetted in the dark, hair puffed and sticking out at odd angles. They were prying through paperwork, fingers moving deftly through the stacks of parchment.

She slipped around the corner, and into a nearby shadow, hoping to be unseen. Her hope was dispelled the moment she heard the shuffle of fabric behind her. The blow was enough to cast her into darkness greater than the shadows on a moonless night.

* * *

When she awoke, her head pounded roughly in her skull, not unlike her brother’s drum practice. 

Blinking, Katara took in her surroundings. She was unbound, but the collection of feet around her eye level told her she was heavily guarded. Voices were around her, but they were quiet tones and the beating in her head was rapidly drowning out her own hearing. 

Finally deciding she would gain no more information as she was, she shifted. No one moved to help her, letting her stand again on her own. As she raised her eyes, she recognized the profile of the person that had been rifling through the parchments. Standing beside her, it was hard to misidentify Smellerbee. 

Speechless, she took in the rest of the group-- the Duke, Longshot, Pipsqueak. 

The Freedom Fighters were in Ba Sing Se. 

* * *

“What do we do now?” The Duke’s voice had deepened as he had grown. He now stood eye to eye with Longshot. 

“I had heard about some spirit in Omashu and in Gaoling that had been working at the Triad. Guess this is her.” Smellerbee’s voice was thoughtful.

Katara fought to keep herself still and closed her eyes, hoping that none would notice that she had woken up.

“Uh, guys?” Pipsqueak’s voice cut through the group. “I don’t think she’s a spirit.”

Katara could almost hear Smellerbee’s eye roll. “She’s unconscious because we got the drop on her. She’s not a spirit.”

“Then don’t you think  _ he’d _ want to see her? See if she’d help us?”

The group fell silent, and Katara fought to keep her eyes closed. Finally, Smellerbee broke the silence.

“Yeah,” there was finality in her voice, “yeah, you’re right, Pipsqueak.”

Gruffly, Katara was lifted and unceremoniously placed over a shoulder—Pipsqueak’s, she presumed. 

The trek was long, but Katara strove to keep track of the twists and turns, trying to remember the tricks that Zuko had taught her many years prior on a distant beach in the haze of a particularly lazy evening. A warm flush of memory distracted her for a moment, before a small jolt brought her back. She knew she was somewhere in the Lower Ring, and based off of the direction first taken and the shadows the full moon cast, she put their destination somewhere near he Southwestern Docks. So when she was dumped carelessly to the floor in a heap, she was unsurprised to have the scent of brine and old fish fill her senses. She kept still, even as feet sounded around her, using her loose locks as a screen to observe the little bit she could. 

Around her, the same group of worn boots and scuffed shoes shuffled, surrounding her.

“We had an unexpected visitor.” Smellerbee began.

“Yeah, she’s dressed like a spirit but we don’t think she is one!” another voice called out-- Sneers, was it? Katara wasn’t quite sure.

A new set of steps, confident but for a drag of a foot on every other step, started across the empty warehouse they were currently housed in.

“So we brought her back here-- I think she’s the one we keep hearing about. The one who’s been causing problems for the Triad.”

The steps continued until the groups shifted to give the newcomer space. Directly before her, a surprisingly familiar set of boots came into view. Disbelief tried to stiffen her spine but she breathed it out, letting the surprise flush from her system. Another rasp of fabric, and the newcomer knelt beside her. She tried to look up through the screen of her hair, but her angle was too steep to see much more than the earth tone clothed knees. 

“Well, Smellerbee,” every tendon and breath stilled in her body, the silkiness of his voice raising thoughts and memories in her that she had long buried below all the unresolved pain of loss, “I think you were right. She’s not going to cause us any trouble.”

“Isn’t that right,” a hand gently raised a few of her curls, exposing her too-wide blue eyes for anything other than unconscious, “Katara?’

Inexplicably, impossibly, familiar dark eyes met her, a mop of deep brown hair tumbled around his face, and still pressed in his lips was a stalk of grain. WIth a perfectly arched brow, and a soft smile, somehow, Jet was alive, and staring down at her like he was playfully annoyed that it had taken her so long to find him.

* * *

It was nearly sunrise when Katara shuffled back into her room. She caught a glimpse of herself reflected in the nearby bronze mirror balanced just so on her vanity.

_ “I know it’s not much, but…” _

_ “‘Not much’? Zuko, I know how much these good mirrors cost!” _

_ He had shrugged. “I got a good deal.” _

_ “You’re not a good liar.”  _

_ That lopsided smirk. That twinkle in his eye. That hand behind his neck. _

_ “You’ve been travelling a lot. I know that inns don’t have the best mirrors. And while I’m sure you can do your hair with your eyes closed,” He had reached out, catching a wayward strand, and tucked it behind her ear, “I figured a mirror might be nice.” _

_ She had smiled into his touch, and he had lingered at her cheek.  _

_ “Thank you, Zuko.” _

The early morning daylight bathed her room in golden tones, highlighting the deep bronze of her skin and the crimson swirls on her cheeks and arms. Her hair was disheveled, a tumbled mess from the journey on Pipsqueak’s shoulder. The swirls on her cheeks were streaked through, a combination of the sweat of exertion and the tears she had shed. 

Jet was alive. 

His story was both unbelievable and completely plausible, but her mind reeled against it. He had been badly injured, and his legs refused to move as they had prior to the injury. She had offered to see if there was anything she could do to help. But as soon as her water touched the skin of his lower back she had known. His qi was a tangled mess, forever locked up in scar tissue and confused memories. When she had told him that she would need to break open the emotional damage around that time to heal his spine, he had recoiled like she had burned him. 

That was when the tears had started. 

Jet was alive, but a large part of him had died long before she had turned away as he laid on the wet stone under Lake Laogai.

Like a magnet, she was drawn to the mirror on her vanity. It had been a gift from Zuko before she had left Omashu. Retrieving it, she turned it over in her hands, flipping the protective cover over it. Embossed on its surface, the waves so familiar of her homeland swirled at the bottom. At the line of the horizon, a setting sun threw out rays similar to the Fire Nation’s emblem. High above, a crescent moon smiled down upon them both. 

_ “It’s beautiful.” _

_ “I’m glad you like it.” _

_ Her fingers had traced the lines of the embossing.  _

_ Over the waves, “To remember home.” _

_ His voice was soothing like the waves under the ice. _

_ Over the moon, “To remember you.” _

_ His voice was tender like sunlight on her skin. _

_ Over the sun, “To remember me.” _

_ His voice was tentative like the drip of rain off of a leaf. _

_ Blue eyes looked up at him. _

_ “How could I ever forget you?” _

_ The set of his shoulders softened.  _

_ “Easily.” _

_ She shook her head violently. “I don’t want to.” _

Determined, she reset her mirror, using it to help clean away the streaks of red from her skin, and then to smooth her hair. Knowing that a bath was in the future, she stripped away only the outer robe of her outfit before sitting down to pull a parchment from the nearby drawer and open her inkwell.

Her script looped and rose and fell as her words flowed easily.

_ Dear Zuko, _

_ I know it was only a few days ago that I saw you last, but I already miss you. I keep staring at the beautiful embossing on your gift. Seems like I’ve missed the point of it being a mirror? _

_ I just had my first excursion in Ba Sing Se tonight, and stumbled across an old friend. I’m not sure if you remember him from that awful play on Ember Island, but he was part of--actually, no. He led the Freedom Fighters. His name is Jet. I’m still reeling a bit, since the last time I saw him, I was certain he was going to die, but he had sent us away before I found out if he had survived... _

* * *

_...but it’s solidly him, Zuko. I don’t quite know how I feel about it. He was injured still- his back is a wreck- but to fix it, I was going to have to break open some memories he didn’t want to address.  _

_ I can’t help but think of you when I see him. It’s not that he looks like you--not at all, really. It’s more that he reminds me of the angry boy you used to be. But where you moved on, looked at your past and grew…  _

_ Jet hasn’t. He’s still well-intentioned, but I still see the angry boy in the woods and the lost boy in Ba Sing Se. A part of me pities him.  _

_ I think the other part of me just misses you. _

_ I hope our paths cross again soon. Write when you can. _

_ Katara _

The parchment was already well worn in his hands, despite it having been only a few weeks since he had received it. His life had been a whirlwind upon arriving back in Caldera, yes, but there was something to the letter that gave him pause on writing back, and he often found himself scanning over the flowing lines of her words for the reason. 

Sokka had just arrived that morning, his eyes bright and eager for his first real assignment as ambassador. The whole day had been spent either elbow deep in paperwork, or in meetings. But as the night had fallen, Zuko had shunted off his mantle and shared a bottle of sake with his friend. 

A bottle quickly became two, and the leading questions he had tried to avoid from Sokka became harder to dodge. Finally, after being asked if he had heard from Katara since leaving Omashu, Zuko had brought out the worn letter from his chest pocket. Sokka scanned the letter, his face showing his shock on certain parts of the letter (Jet’s alive??), and a growing smirk on others. (‘misses you’, huh, Zuko?). 

Crown long out of his hair, Zuko ran his fingers through the long stands, forgetting that it was bound back loosely. It stuck up at awkward angles. Leaning his forehead into his hands, elbows resting on the table top, Zuko ground his eyes with the heels of his palms.

“I don’t know what any of this means, Sokka.”

“Sounds pretty obvious to me.”

A singular amber eye peaked over the tops of his fingers, glaring.

“You’re not helping.”

Sokka shrugged loosely. “What are you confused about?” 

“I know who Jet is. I actually met him on the way to Ba Sing Se while banished.”

“Okay?”

“But why would she go into so much detail about him? Contrasting me and him? I don’t…” A sigh escaped him like a rattle. “Then she says she misses me!” 

Zuko stands, or attempts to, but his motion is too quick and the liquor has hit him harder than he realized. Quickly righting himself, he set to pace about the room.

“What does all this mean?”

“Well, you guys did a lot together in Omashu, right?”

The firebender nodded. 

“It sounds like she just missed you.”

“But Jet…”

“Yeah, that. Okay, that I’ll give you. Jet was her first.”

“First… what?”

A dark brow rose in challenge. “From what I’ve heard, her first  _ first _ . If you will.”

“Oh.”

“But he’s also a grade A jerk, so I don’t think you’re going to have any issues on that.” 

“That’s… reassuring?”

“I mean, that’s what you’re worried about, right?” Sokka eyed him over the glass he was refilling. “Since she’s talking about Jet so much in the letter, that you’ve got a rival?”

A bright red flush overpowered the hazy pink from the sake on Zuko’s cheeks. “I-- I’m not-- Sokka, I’m not trying--”

“Oh please.” A dismissive wave of his hand brought Zuko’s protest to a stop. “You don’t think I know? I was in the South Pole, remember?”

His hand rose to rub at the back of his neck, even as the chuckle escaped Zuko’s lips. “Yeah, I guess you’re right.”

“Of course I am.” A pause as he swallowed down more of the rice wine. “And I am solidly not opposed, if you’re wondering.”

Zuko’s brow peaked, and he met Sokka’s eyes hesitantly. “You’re not?”

Sokka’s laugh bounced around the spacious but empty room. “Where’s the confident, hell-may-come Fire Lord? Does the thought of my sister really scare you that much?”

“No,” Zuko felt the smile tugging at his lips. “No, but getting her upset with me definitely does. That woman can be scary.”

The Fire Lord joined in with Sokka’s laugh, the second time.

“She definitely can be.” The water tribesman’s eyes were bright, as he leaned forward. “Listen, Zuko, my best suggestion about that--” he gestured to the well-worn letter on the table between them, “-- is to talk to her. And I don’t just mean a letter. Get her to come here. Or go visit her. Either way, man, you’ve gotta just talk to her. Honestly and openly.”

“What-what if she says no, Sokka?”

He shrugged. “Then you are able to move on with your life.” 

A mischievous glint sparkled in Sokka’s eye, and he leaned forward conspiratorially, even if his voice was in a horribly loud stage whisper. “Between you and me, though, I don’t think you’re going to get a no.”

Zuko’s smile grew slightly, before fading. “Maybe not from her.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“I can’t just think about me, Sokka.”

“Okay?”

“The Fire Nation is still unsteady, still reeling.”

“I think it’s going to take a while for that to change, Zuko.”

“That’s my point. My councilors; they may be a bunch of old men who have outdated opinions, but they aren’t necessarily wrong about the condition of the nation. And they would have some pretty strong opinions about who I marry.”

“You think they wouldn’t be okay with Katara?”

“I think they wouldn’t be okay with anybody but Fire Nation nobility.”

“You know this for sure?”

Zuko shook his head. “It hasn’t come up. Mai was nobility, and there really hasn’t been anybody else since then.”

“Then you really don’t know for sure.”

“I-I guess not?”

“Then try your hand and see what comes of it. What’s the worst that can happen?”

“A lot, Sokka. A lot.”

He sighed. “Okay, fair. But I’d venture a guess and say, based off of what I have seen from both of you, it would be worth trying.”

“Maybe you’re right.”


	13. The Unveiling

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> People and Motivations come to the light, but there are still one too many questions.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I forgot that I haven't posted these chapters here, until I realized that I was four chapters ahead in my docs than I am here.... <.< SO. Here is Ch. 13...
> 
> Special shout out to Lord-Elmo... <3 thanks as always, buddy!!

It was an easy routine to fall into, every night on the rooftops with Jet and his Freedom Fighters, collecting intel, breaking up trade routes, and interrogating witnesses. But in all of the weeks spent on the rooftop, Katara never arrived in anything less than her full Painted Lady persona. 

And every night, she would linger on the edge of her rooftop, waiting, hoping beyond hope, for the arrival of a dark shadow in the outline of  _ him _ . Which one varied from day to day, but more often than not, she checked over her shoulder for golden eyes. 

Slowly, intel trickled in. 

The Spirit Bridge was, in fact, still in Ba Sing Se. She was held in varying places around the city, but the Freedom Fighters were having a hard time pinning down her exact location. Meanwhile, they had quickly added to Katara’s Underground, Toph easily overwhelmed by the sheer quantity of men, women and children brought to her. 

And every early morning that the Painted Lady would arrive in her room, she would remove the mirror from it’s satin pouch, and wash away the night until Katara stood disheveled and exhausted before it’s polished bronze surface. And every morning, she would sigh, running her hand over it’s embossed surface before returning it reverentially to it’s pouch. 

During the daylight hours, she would spend her time in the nearby clinics in the Lower Rings or at her desk, writing to her brother or Zuko. The former was to placate, the latter to inform.

But as the sun would fall, the Painted Lady would rise.

Until one night, when stealth was required more than spiritual intimidation. That night, she donned an all black tunic and pants, a hood pulled tight over her head and over her nose and mouth. In her mirror, she stared down her own figure, suddenly reminded vividly of the last time she had donned such an outfit. At the corner of her eye, she swore she could see his figure beside her, fire in his palms, and determination in his gaze. But when she turned to look, he was gone. Instead, she closed her eyes, steeling herself for the evening.

She had met Jet upon the rooftop of a small bakery, the smells of fermenting yeast overpowering. Their target was a nearby business, it’s door shuttered and dark. With hardly more than a nod, they had made their way across shaled roofs, the fall of their footsteps a gentle tap across its surface. Finally breaching it, they entered the small office, and Katara set about rummaging through the paperwork and scrolls upon the desk. Jet kept an eye on the door, watchful for any intrusion. 

A line caught her eye, and Katara stopped. Two locations were listed, both circled in one red stroke. Under it, an ominous title of “main asset” gleamed even in the dark. 

Even as she raised her head to call out to Jet, he was turning, a finger to his lips. With a dangerous look in his eyes, he gestured for her to replace the paper. Determinedly, she devoted the locations to memory, before once more returning it to it’s prior place in the stack.

In the hallway, she could hear the muffled footsteps, even as Jet moved towards her frantically, gesturing towards their exit. 

They were nearly out the window they had entered, when the door handle shook. When the door opened, there was a pause and all the inhabitants of the room stopped and stared at each other. With a jolt, Jet was the first to break free of the spell, yanking on Katara’s arm to move her to action. They both moved to action, even as ice daggers embedded themselves into the wall where Katara had been standing a moment prior. 

Both of the sleuths bolted for the exit, and were on the roof and gone before the others were able to pursue. 

At a full gallop, both Jet and Katara leaped from rooftop to rooftop, the only sounds were of their feet on the foreign roofs and the pants on their breath. 

Finally slowing, Katara found them on the edge of a warehouse on a nearby pier. 

Taking a breath, she tried to calm her speeding heart, only to turn and spot the smolder in Jet’s eyes as he stepped forward, his hand on her arm. She tried not to instantly be repulsed, her mind on someone else in all black clothing, his eyes hot with a zeal for her justice. 

“Jet…” Her words were a warning that he chose not to heed.

“I’ve missed you, Katara.”

“You hardly knew me.”

“I knew you well enough.”

“But I didn’t know you.” She pulled at her arm in his grip, and disappointment flashed behind his eyes.

“I think if you did, you might not be as dismissive of what I can offer you.”

_ There it was,  _ she thought.  _ The expectation, the manipulation.  _

She wasn’t even sure if he knew he was doing it-- she wondered if it was just how he had survived, twisting with the blows and turning them back at his opponents, making them second guess themselves. Katara was a waterbender-- she knew how to turn blows back against the assailant. She also knew how to stop them in mid swing.

“I don’t need to, Jet. I know you well enough to understand this--” she gestured between them, “--was and is not healthy or sustainable.”

Tugging slightly at the arm still in his grasp, she tried to emphasize her point. There was a pause and for a moment, she wondered if he would continue to hold her arm, but he released her with only a slight huff. 

“Fine. I understand. You have to do this on your own.”

She shook her head. “Jet, it doesn’t matter if I do or I don’t. You and me: we’re just never going to work.”

Something sharp passed behind his eyes, but she was surprised to find that it stopped short of his mouth. Instead, he just nodded.

“We should join back up with the rest, so we can plan out our next move.”

* * *

The rest of the Freedom Fighters were scattered among the lower ring harbors, but Smellerbee in particular was hunched on a rooftop, her eyes scanning the strangely active docks in the disconcerting green glow of the lights in the misty night. Jet and Katara moved to her side, and she acknowledged them with a small nod.

“Did you get what you were looking for?”

Jet glanced back over his shoulder at Katara, and she nodded.

“Good.” Smellerbee nodded. “Anything important?”

“This is a ‘goods’ transfer,” Katara’s voice was a sneer. She knew what ‘goods’ translated to, and the anger burned hot in her belly. “As for the Spirit Bridge, they have two locations, but I’ve got a feeling it’s old intel.”

“Why?” Jet’s voice sounded out from beside her.

“The first location they listed I raided the first night I was here. They don’t reuse locations.”

“So we should focus on that—“

A familiar bird call echoed around them. All three turned at the light patter of feet on the rooftop, weapons and element drawn. But when the darkly clad figure raised his head, Katara was already in motion, element forgotten, her arms wrapping around his neck. A slight hmph escaped the Blue Spirit, and he paused stiff before wrapping his arms around her in return. Even Katara was surprised by the giddiness in her chest.

“I’ve missed you.”

The responding tightening of his arms around her answered her back.

It was the first time she had been this casually close to him, and she wondered what had brought on the sudden wave of happiness at his arrival. A warm scent followed her as she stepped back; an almost familiar one of campfires and spiced tea, and when she blinked, she almost expected to see Zuko instead of the impassive blue and white mask. 

Suddenly, she recognized why she was so elated in his arrival, and her cheeks blazed.

Thankful for the half-moon’s shadow, she hoped that her sudden embarrassment was hidden in the cold wash of blues and whites. 

Someone cleared their throat behind her, and Katara turned back to see Jet watching them with a furrowed brow.

“Wanna introduce me to your friend?”

“Jet, this is the Blue Spirit.” She waved a hand between them both. “Blue Spirit, Jet.”

His arched brow rose even further. “No names?”

She felt a flash of irritation at him, but quickly quelled it. It was a reasonable question.

“No, Jet. No names.”

“So you’re just the Painted Lady?”

Her chin rose defiantly, but Jet backed down with upraised hands. “Just checking where I stand.”

The dark eyed man looked over the spirit with a critical eye, before turning back to her. “I’m assuming you trust him?”

“Yes.”

A noncommittal grunt slipped past the twig of wheat still pressed in his tight lips.

“We’ll have to see about that.”

Together, they turned back to the docks, and Smellerbee returned to her plans for the attack. At one point, Jet looked over at the Blue Spirit, eyeing his dual dao swords.

“I’m assuming you’re a swordsman?”

The Blue Spirit nodded firmly once.

“I used to know someone who wielded dual daos... “ But Jet’s words faded and the two men continued in silence as Smellerbee finished up their plans. 

It was a simple plan, but each part had to fall into line perfectly. 

And it did. They were like a well-oiled machine, and the newcomer fell into place easily. After the docks were cleared, she bid goodnight to the Freedom Fighters, and left, the Blue Spirit following like a shadow.

They paused on the roof across from her let room, and she turned back to him. She couldn’t prevent the small smile on her lips. 

“It’s really is good to see you again.” He nodded back at her, and she continued. “Are you going to be here for a bit?”

The Blue Spirit paused before shrugging noncommittally. 

“Guess we’ll have to see how each night goes, huh?”

A shuffle of his feet, and she was once more struck by his familiarity. He nodded once more. The headiness of seeing him earlier struck her, and she was overtaken by an unexpected desire that she knew she would dispel were it the daylight. But as it was, the half-moon cast it’s pale glow around them, making the lines of his mask more grotesque and her paint look black as the shadows. So instead of stepping away, back from him and the moment, she stepped forward, bringing a hand to the edge of the mask.

He didn’t shy away.

She traced it’s edge to the tip of it’s chin, and with the lightest of pressure pushed it aside. Pale skin practically glowed as the soft swell of his lips emerged from behind the cold wood. Her free hand alighted on to his shoulder, while the other left off it’s exploration of the mask to follow the new contours just so minutely revealed. As her thumb slid over the full bow of his lip, she watched as he gently kissed it’s pad. Her hand tightened on his shoulder, and his hands moved to her waist suddenly, bringing her closer to him. She cupped his revealed jaw, pulling him closer, and she felt them both pause, a half-breath, a  _ we shouldn’t do this _ , a guarantee of disaster, before they both surged towards each other. 

His lips were like a fire on hers, and she was quickly overwhelmed. Passion ran through every fiber of this man’s actions, and it burned bright like lightning. She had been kissed--Aang had been her fiance, and they had been together for months before the cancelled wedding--but she had never been kissed like  _ this _ . It rose and fell, and she slotted against him like his body conformed to hers. He was tender, demanding, and altogether attentive, his lips responding to her gentlest of cues. Even as her body played under his hands like an instrument he was the master of, she felt a growing sorrow in her chest. 

Gently, she slowed the kiss, letting the waves of each emotion wash over them, before finally breaking apart. They hovered close, their breaths still mingling. Her eyes studied his swollen lips, his chin smeared with the paint from hers, and the sorrow grew thorns. Because, no matter the result, this was not going to be fair to this stranger. For no matter what, he would not be who she imagined when she kissed him. He could not be Zuko.

Katara could feel the tears trying to prickle at the corner of her eyes, and she blinked hard to keep them at bay. 

Her fingers followed back the lines of his jaw, and she watched his lips move soundlessly. She was so engrossed in the motion, in the thought of her own regret, that when he actually spoke, she jumped slightly. 

It was a whisper, but it was unmistakable. 

“I’m sorry, Katara.”

In one motion, he stepped away, pulled the mask down and was gone. The cold late-autumn wind whipped against her, stealing the remnants of his lingering body heat from her, and she shivered. She wasn’t sure it was from the cold.

Katara had just kissed the Blue Spirit. 

The Blue Spirit was unmistakably Zuko.

Katara had just kissed Zuko.

And more importantly, Zuko had kissed her back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So *that* was a thing. XD  
> Now the fun *really* begins.

**Author's Note:**

> As a random aside-- I'm planning to put out a small one shot about Zuko soon, so if you're interested, keep an eye out for me!
> 
> EDIT: The thing has been done! Please take a look at my works - it's entitled Calloused. I'm actually quite proud of it.


End file.
